


Behind and Slightly Left

by cadkitten



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman R.I.P. (2008), Midnighter (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Anger, Angst, Bathroom Sex, Bisexuality, Blood and Gore, Bombs, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Child Death, Confessions, Death Threats, Drug Use, Edgeplay, Emotional Roller Coaster, Emotional Sex, Exhibitionism, False Accusations, Family Bonding, Fights, First Time, Fluff, Frottage, Genetic Engineering, Hand Jobs, Human Trafficking, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Multiple Orgasms, Murder, Nightmares, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Oral Sex, Original Character Death(s), Past Child Abuse, Past Drug Use, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rain, Realization, Romance, Spiritual, Stranger Sex, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Undercover, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Violence, Vomiting, Voyeurism, drug bust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-03 11:11:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 50
Words: 110,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5288495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In tandem, but slightly to his back... his Robin a perfect match to his Batman. Pride welled in his chest even as he knew he'd have to speak to him again about reigning himself in. Because if nothing else, Damian was fiercely loyal to Dick. He had been ever since the first night they'd become like this, the first night they'd traveled Gotham as Batman and Robin. And he wouldn't have traded a single person in the whole world to run the shadows of each night in this city. No amount of experience or skill or anything else could possibly replace Damian... and in that moment, he finally understood why Bruce had always been so protective of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No matter what I tried, I couldn't stop thinking about this idea. I'm stuck, drawn in, and suckered completely. When the words plague me so, they must be written upon the page. - This is probably a mess of timlines... please forgive it if it is.  
> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "Hello" by Adele

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE: I have created an 8tracks playlist for this story!  
> http://8tracks.com/cadkitten/behind-and-slightly-left

Cool night air whipped under Dick's cape as he made the leap from one building to the next, already in full-on sprint across the rooftops of Gotham. The black billowed out behind him and then swirled around his ankles as he landed, the weight to it pulling it down faster than he had been used to with his old Robin uniform. Behind him, he heard the thump of Damian landing on the rooftop and then the slide of gravel that told him he'd chosen to make the leap in a manner than had him sliding a bit on impact. His lips curved upward as he vaulted the short dividing wall between units and skirted a chimney, melding back into the shadows as they approached the alley he'd seen the perpetrators disappear toward. 

Damian's presence was solid behind him and to the left, the only spot the kid ever kept these days. He'd noticed the perpetual placement after their third run together as Batman and Robin. It hadn't been like that when he'd taken him a few times as Nightwing and it certainly hadn't been like that when Bruce had taken him out as Batman. But now... with Bruce gone and Dick taking up the cowl, he could only make assumptions as to Damian's persistence at his shoulder. Perhaps it was a way of healing... or maybe it was the fact that they held a sort of understanding that Bruce and Damian had never obtained. Whatever it was, Dick was grateful for it. It meant he could block some things he felt he needed to and know when someone was going for Damian when he was distracted. It meant his job was easier, not wondering what his counterpart was up to and where when he could spare an ear toward the direction and figure it out with that alone. And less distraction, meant less injury in this line of work.

He crept to the edge of the building and waited, watching the mouth of the alleyway until the twin blurs of color darted into it. Without a single word, both Dick and Damian were over the ledge and landing heavy two stories below. Damian's sword was out in an instant and Dick was already locked in hand-to-hand with the one wearing blue. The movements would have been dizzying if Dick hadn't been used to dealing with Wally for all those years. 

As it was, it was exhilarating, capturing blow after blow before it hit, precious few getting through his defenses. He could hear the sounds of combat behind him and the instant he heard Damian let out a nearly animalistic growl, he set his jaw and focused harder on beating his combatant. That only meant one thing and he was certain it wasn't something he wanted to go any further than it already was. It meant the kid was losing his control, meant soon his force would turn either lethal or dreadfully close... and if there was one thing he'd ever promised Bruce, it had been to keep Damian in line as much as he could manage. 

Two sharp blows to the man in front of him, one to the jaw, the other to the back of the neck, and the guy was lurching. Dick slammed his foot on the back of his leg and the guy went down heavy. Three seconds spared to cuff him to the thick gas pipe along the wall and Dick threw himself into Damian's attacker with most of his weight. The guy stumbled and then slammed head-first into the brick wall, sliding down it, out cold a second later. Blind luck... that was one for the universe if nothing else. He tossed Damian the cuffs and jerked his head toward the other guy as he did a survey of the area, ensuring they didn't get any surprises. Tapping the com, he opened a line to GCPD and made the call, the operator taking his call-in with the same disinterest he did every single time. 

Once he'd cut the link, he glanced at Damian and then shot his hook upward, pulling himself up the two stories and then making the run for the taller building further out, shooting the hook again once he was halfway across. It grabbed and he felt that familiar rush of engagement as he jolted a bit and then rode it upward. Even in this, Damian was to his left and slightly behind. In tandem, but slightly to his back... his Robin a perfect match to his Batman. Pride welled in his chest even as he knew he'd have to speak to him again about reigning himself in. Because if nothing else, Damian was fiercely loyal to Dick. He had been ever since the first night they'd become like this, the first night they'd traveled Gotham as Batman and Robin. And he wouldn't have traded a single person in the whole world to run the shadows of each night in this city. No amount of experience or skill or anything else could possibly replace Damian... and in that moment, he finally understood why Bruce had always been so protective of him. Why he always cared so damn much if he succeeded at everything he ever did. And with that, came the pain of not knowing if _his_ Batman was alive or dead, of not knowing if he'd ever talk to him again, and of knowing his final words hadn't been the ones he'd have ever chosen if Bruce never came back.

But he knew he'd live... and he knew half the reason why he'd live was the boy behind him and slightly to his left. The boy he'd give his very life to protect and the boy he knew would give his own for Dick.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "M.I.N.E. (End This Way)" by Five Finger Death Punch

**Years Later**

Dick stood within the walls of the cave, his hard gaze locked on the monitors in front of him as they played out a scene from the night before. Bruce had called him back from Blüdhaven, a desperate plea in his voice as he asked Dick to come and help him resolve some differences between him and a certain teenager. Of course, Dick hadn't hesitated in the least, making arrangements to be gone for a few days, packing a bag, and then heading over. It wasn't like he couldn't just drop in and then leave, but it was always better with Damian if he remained for a while and spoke to him in an offhanded manner at some point. Direct confrontation didn't end well with the kid, it never had, and for whatever reason everyone else always tried it that way. 

If Dick took a moment to consider that, he always came away with the understanding that no one else really understood his Robin the way he did. They treated Damian like a ticking time bomb when they should have been treating him with love and respect and realizing that half of the kid's actions when he lashed out were born of a certain unique brand of pain. They all had their shadows, their haunting moments that danced behind their eyes, taunting them. And Damian was no different in that, though he'd had his from nearly the time he could walk, and Dick thought no one else really thought about that part. Or maybe they did and they were afraid... running scared when they should have simply stepped in and reached out to Damian. Whatever it was that he understood that no one else did, at least Bruce had the sense to realize that Damian responded best to him, to his method of discussing the things he'd done that were slightly outside of the lines before they went too far.

Focusing back on the screen in front of him, he watched Damian turn on an attacker, watched the flash of a katana in the attacker's hands and instantly, Dick stiffened. "Oh God," he whispered, leaning forward on the console, his hands pressed to cool metal, concern writing itself across his face as he watched intently, completely ignoring Bruce's form - both on screen and beside him. The bad guy launched himself at Damian, the kid dodging it easily, deflecting with a gauntlet when it came too close over the next twenty or so seconds, his attacks made with care and precision, pressure points being applied to weaken the man he was confronting, who was still at least twice his size. And then the guy went for Bruce and a second later Damian had his arm, the katana falling to the ground as he wrenched his arm back at an angle it should not have gone in. Another terrible motion and a blow to the back of the head and Dick was certain the guy's arm was broken and out of socket as he went down like a brick. 

The katana was in Damian's hand a second later and Damian was off, up the wall in a way that even Dick had never quite grasped how he managed. The feed switched to his mask camera as Bruce hit a button on the console, and the shadow of a man running in front of Damian appeared. Another ten seconds and Damian threw himself at the man, both of them rolling to the ground, Damian ending up on top, clearly straddling the guy. The katana came up into the camera's view and the position switched quickly. The footage paused and Bruce switched the camera to his own feed from his cowl. Moments ticked by and then Dick could see Damian on top of the guy, half crouching over him. The sword lifted and he could see the taunt lines of Damian's body as he moved in a way that clearly implied he was about to off the man in front of him. 

Dick reached and hit pause, scouring the scene for what he had missed that Damian hadn't. A few seconds and he found it, a discarded sniper rifle on the very bottom of Bruce's feed, Bruce nearly past it in the frame, barely visible in the darkness and too far left for Bruce to care when he was focused on Damian like he knew he was. Dick pushed himself back from the console, folding his arms and breathing out a sigh. "Bottom left. Sniper rifle." 

He watched Bruce discover the object, watched his eyes widen a fraction of an inch, and then his jaw set. "Changes nothing."

"Changes everything," Dick murmured. "Robin protects his Batman, at all costs. That man must have been up there with that rifle to kill you or he wouldn't have reacted like that. Trust me on this one, Bruce. He knows better than to lose his head and he knows better than to use force you don't want him to. But the fact is that he probably saved your life. Even Bats don't come back from bullets in the head." He reached to lay his hand on Bruce's shoulder, squeezing for a moment. "I'll talk to him, but you've got to understand how he operates and why."

Bruce hit a few keys and the feed disappeared. "Lethal force is never authorized."

Dick let go, turning away with a huff of breath and a shake of his head. "And that's where you and every Robin you've ever had have disagreed." His steps carried him toward the door, the departure built to end the discussion there, stop it before it became an argument. 

The stairs up from the cave felt weighted in a way they hadn't in a long time as Dick ascended them. The air around him was oppressive with the argument that hadn't come to fruition and the words from the night he'd cast out on his own still raw in his mind and his heart. His own use of too much force, his own desire to seek something similar to vengeance... and Bruce stopping him. In the long run, he understood why and he saw something in Bruce he honestly understood more than he wanted to. 

He paused on the top step and stared back down into the darkness, only the sound of his own breathing for company. The stone felt cool against his palm and he took the moment to gather himself, closing his eyes and letting the thoughts play out in the privacy of the stairwell. Bruce's angry face, Dick's desperation. The words that had culminated in a fight of the more physical nature of their own. And then Dick's decision and the weight of it the moment it clicked into place, like a light switch flipped that could never be turned off. Had it been that way for Damian? The realization that some people _did_ deserve to die? That some people were so ugly on the inside that nothing would ever help them and the pain they'd cause the world around them was unstoppable as long as they lived? Or had his been born from another realm entirely? 

Dick opened his eyes, wet his lips, and turned back toward the exit, his fingers sliding down to the catch-hold, pausing there as he considered the one piece of knowledge Damian didn't have at all... the one Dick was certain only he had realized about Bruce. Out of all of them, he and Jason were the only ones who had ever seen Bruce so close to killing and Jason's mind had been far too clouded to evaluate it for what it was. The very fact of the matter was... if Bruce ever stepped over that line, there would be no turning back and given a few years on that side, it wouldn't be a stranger they were forced to fight in the night. Their own force would have to turn lethal and he wasn't sure any of them could take that step. Friend to foe. Mentor to villain. Dick had never been more certain of something in his entire life than he was of the fact that if Bruce killed, this would be the result, and it had been an ugly worm in his gut since the first moment he'd realized it. 

Taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it, he pulled the catch on the door and watched it slide open, stepping out into the manor and listening to the clock slide back into place behind him. He cast his gaze across the room, finding Alfred dusting a shelf that surely didn't need dusting. His lips quirked upward as he moved away from the hidden door, waiting on the greeting he knew he'd receive.

"Master Dick... I was beginning to fear the door had malfunctioned." It wasn't even subtle that Alfred knew more than most of them ever gave him credit for. On the surface, he was their butler, but underneath it, he was the reason they survived the things they got themselves into a good lot of the time. And maybe he didn't hold the weapons anymore, maybe he didn't wage war upon the enemy any longer. But the fact was, he'd not only taught Bruce, but he'd trained every one of them in his own way. The things Bruce left out... the things that kept them a good bit more mentally stable than Bruce himself... and even the things that had brought Jason back to being someone they didn't have to hunt down and lock up.

"Sorting out my thoughts, Alfred." Dick came to lean on the wall beside the shelf, a small smile on his lips. "Some things you need to deal with in the dark..."

Alfred let out a soft hum and a click of his tongue before he turned to face Dick, studying his face for a moment, and then turning back to the task at hand. "He's in the garden. Just got back from his morning jog I suspect." Again, that hint that Alfred paid adept attention to their locations at all times when they were within his realm. He reached and squeezed Alfred's shoulder before pushing away from the wall and heading out of the room. 

The moment he stepped outside, he could feel the threat of rain coming in quick and a glance to the West showed him a hell of a storm that hadn't been flowing in when he'd arrived some hours ago. He took the center path, leading him past the pond and down toward the one bench he knew Damian liked to stretch himself out on while he came back down from his exercise. A little smile curved his lips as he remembered the first time he'd found Damian out here. The morning after their second run as Batman and Robin, the pain of Bruce's disappearance still fresh on both of them, they'd both dealt in their own ways. Dick had talked it out with Alfred after training on his gymnast equipment for a few hours and Damian had thrown himself into training to the point of near breaking, ending it all with a run of the property. But the way he'd run had been flat-out, the manner in which someone ran for their life rather than for the sport of it. And he knew it had always been that way for Damian when he was upset. He ran from his own emotions, ran from his fears and frustrations... and it had grown to a literal sense that morning. 

But when Dick had found him, it had been one of those moments that brought them closer together. The kid had been drenched in sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead, his shirt darkened by it and he'd been flopped over the bench in the sun, chest heaving with exertion. When he'd opened his eyes, Dick had finally seen the person he'd known Damian was, the one behind the mask he shoved up in everyone's face. He'd seen the pain, the regret, and the desperation to please. He'd found a broken boy in the garden that day and when he'd knelt down beside of him, he could never have predicted that the next ten minutes would have been spent with Damian in his arms, crying for the very first time that Dick had ever known him to do so. 

While most would have thought him insensitive to be smiling over such a moment, Dick thought Damian might have understood it if he knew about it. The fact was, it was the first time he had ever _truly_ met Damian; the real person, not the façade. And from that day onward, he'd always been privy to that version of Damian. The one who opened up to him, the one who told him when he really did need medical attention, and the one who protected him in a way that spoke that he'd give his life if he had to. It just wasn't a Damian anyone else got to have and Dick had found himself growing more and more protective of him over the years. He felt like no one else understood, like no one else could see what he did in him, and clearly at least Bruce agreed since he always called Dick back in when things got rough with Damian. 

Dick let his footsteps be a bit clearer than they inherently were, making certain if Damian was here, he heard him coming. He came around the rose bush, dead blossoms crushing under his shoes as he walked. He pushed his hands into his pockets and made a beeline for where Damian lay, sprawled out on the bench that was rapidly growing too small for his entire form. He let a friendly smile touch his lips again, studying the kid as he opened one eye and peered up at him, looking bored more than anything for the moment. Dick paused at the edge of the little concrete riser the bench was placed upon and then knelt down, just like he'd done a hundred times before. 

He didn't say a thing, knew he didn't have to. None of this had ever been about him asking Damian to open up to him. It had always been in his hands to arrive and Damian's own to tell him whatever he needed to. Damian's arm moved, his hand turning upward and his fingers curling slightly, a gesture Dick knew was as close as teenage Damian had ever gotten to asking for physical comfort. He extracted one hand from his pocket, sliding it into Damian's waiting grasp and linking their fingers. His thumb made lazy little circles across the web of skin between thumb and index finger, his body language speaking as openly as he could of compassion and a desire to help.

When Damian finally spoke, it was slightly choked, as though he needed to cough and hadn't. "He is angry with me over my decisions again. But he does not understand it the way we do... he cannot see when it is a necessity."

Dick's voice was quiet, contemplative and nothing near accusing. "Was it an emotional reaction to the situation?"

He could hear the kid's breathing increase for a minute and then the soft exhale through his nose that meant he'd reached a decision. "He was going to kill him."

"Everyone aims to kill us... or at least toy with us until the next person wants to aim to kill."

Damian shook his head ever so slowly back and forth, pain written across his face now. "No... he was ugly on the inside, Dick. Ugly like-" his voice cracked and he closed his eyes, a little tremor going through him before he forced out the rest of the words, "ugly like I used to be."

Dick moved his other hand to clasp Damian's hand in both of his own, squeezing tightly, maybe tighter than was necessary, but it pulled Damian's attention to him, narrowing his focus entirely on Dick for the moment. "Used to be. That's the key here and you've got to know that." He offered a gentle smile, one that was mostly in his eyes rather than on his features. "When you killed all those people, when you came so close to the destruction of an entire people... that was the ugly part. But you're not on that path anymore. It's reformation and that's what Bruce wants for these people we help every single day. Someone to sway their path way from the dark and toward the light."

Damian's words were weak when he spoke again, as though the fight was draining out of his decision. "But we are a piece of the darkness..."

"Sometimes... we have to be the gray between the two. The world isn't black and white, no matter how much simpler that would make things." Dick shifted closer, meeting Damian's gaze and holding it, fondness welling up inside of him as those jade green eyes allowed him to look right into who Damian was. There it was, the fullness of his trust in Dick, the mask discarded for the moment. He pressed Damian's knuckles against his lips for a moment, lowering their hands as he spoke again. "Jason is the epitome of our gray area... the one who strays the furthest from the code Bruce has laid down. And if you think that doesn't stab Bruce right in his heart every single time, you may need to look a little closer at their relationship these days."

He watched the confusion cloud Damian's gaze for a moment and then the recognition as to what Dick meant. "He thinks he has failed every time Jason takes a life." It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact, as though Damian had finally realized something very important in that moment. 

"And that's why when you meander toward that line, even to save him, he lashes out. It's not anger, it's frustration at himself for failing you." Dick was silent for a moment, contemplating how much he needed to reveal about Bruce to the kid. The idea that Damian wasn't just Bruce's son, that he was Bruce's Robin now and no longer Dick's in the literal sort of sense finally swayed him to giving up a bit more information. "He takes responsibility of you in more than one way. You are his son, but you are also his Robin. And he knows your life would have been different if he hadn't just let your mother walk out of his life, if he'd gone after her, and that hurts him in ways I'm not even sure I can understand. He means well with every rule he puts down on our heads, no matter how frustrating it is when we feel like he can't see it our way." He chose his words carefully on the last bit of it, trying to imply what he didn't want to outright say.

He watched Damian puzzle it out, watched as his face softened, felt it as his grip tightened on Dick's fingers. "He does see it our way, does he not? He just does not act."

Dick just offered a sad little smile to Damian as he finally released his hand, letting him decide if he was still going to hold on or not. Damian's hand slipped from his own and he sighed as he rolled his head to stare back up at the sky above them. Dick gave it another minute and then stood up, taking a few steps away before Damian's soft voice caught him. "Why does he not make the exception?"

Pausing, Dick pushed both hands back into his pocket, his face dissolving into the same mask of utter agony he'd worn in the stairwell earlier. He gazed out toward the incoming storm, choosing his words carefully. "There's a darkness inside of him... inside of all of us. But his is bigger than any of us could ever fathom. Even I don't pretend to know the depth of it. The line we walk is a fragile one, this balance... it's like walking a tightrope without netting below to catch you, only his is a hundred stories up. Across the rope is the daily goal, the thing that our life is all about. Justice and cleaning up this scum of a city. And below it is a hundred story drop into the abyss. Killing someone would be the one thing to knock him far enough off balance that he'd fall." Dick was silent then, his eyes closed against the rolling clouds as piercing agony at the idea of what he was speaking about lanced through him, as painfully piercing as a sword right through his flesh. The first raindrops fell and he tilted his head up toward it, whispering out the last words, cracked and broken, "His first kill would lead to our final. It would take all of us, I have no doubt, but the day he crosses that line is the day the Batman becomes our next target. And that day will crush us all."

He heard Damian's slight intake of breath, could see the knowledge written on his face in his mind's eye. His own breath hitched as he offered the final words he could muster on the subject, the one he'd never dared speak out loud. "I've known for a long time that if he violates that single rule, we'll lose him to the other side. And not like we lost Jason for a while there... he would be our agony, our end, and he'd rip us all apart. The lines would be drawn in the sand and whoever was left standing against him would either die or have to shoulder the responsibility of knowing we took the life of the man who gave us everything he's ever had. I don't know about you, but I've known for a long time that that day will leave me a broken man. No matter how much we may disagree with him... no matter how much the rest of us agree some people deserve to die... it can never be Bruce that kills them and it can never be on his lips that he agrees when we do it for him. It's a rocky path and we've got to keep at least the illusion of walking the one he _has_ to choose. He lives and breathes with the fear that he will become what we fight... or worse, that one of his own will cross that line before he does."

The wind picked up and Dick closed his eyes, lowering his head as the rain started to come down harder, the barest hint of a shiver ripping through him. One that had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the ideas he'd finally spoken out loud for the first time since he'd realized them. 

Damian's arms slid around his waist, the teen pressing to his back, head resting nearly on Dick's shoulder, and he relaxed in his hold, not moving to return it, but knowing Damian would understand his gratefulness of the action through his ease alone. "I own two fears in this life... two fears that keep me on the exact path I've been walking for a long time now. That day is one of them."

Damian was quiet for a moment and then, tentatively, "The other?"

Dick moved then, his hand coming to grasp tightly at Damian's hand, squeezing before disengaging from his hold. His steps took him to the edge of the rose bush before he glanced back at Damian, holding his gaze with the most open one he could find within himself as he breathed out the words that pained him more than anything else in this world. "Losing you."

He watched understanding slide into place on Damian's face, watched as disbelief and then acceptance played over his features. When he found the questions written in his eyes, he turned away, starting down the path toward the house, letting himself offer his parting words. "You'll always be my Robin."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "THE BLOSSOMING BEELZEBUB (Symphonic Ver.)"by Dir en grey & "Sweet Dreams" by ADAMS

The rest of the day had been spent catching up with both Damian and Bruce, doing a favor for Bruce in the form of helping him with some footwork on a case he was a bit backlogged on. It wasn't every day he was still so agreeable to helping out Bruce in a way that should have been relevant to Dick being his Robin, but Damian needed the time to himself and Dick wasn't about to begrudge him that. 

The evening had brought with it a warm meal and then Bruce heading out on patrol, Alfred watching the computers for him and Dick and Damian relegated to 'the evening off', as Alfred had termed it. Whatever it was, Dick wasn't going to argue, so instead he simply accepted it and suggested they make a night of it on the couch in the parlor. They'd chosen a few good movies, queued them up, and planted themselves in front of the TV without a second thought.

By the second movie in, Dick's gaze had slipped from the television screen in front of him, idly running over the shelves and shelves of books lining the room. The odd interplay of the spines and the colors from the movie left his mind free to relax for the first time in months. Easing himself down a little further onto the couch, he rested his arm on the edge, his cheek leaning on the soft fabric of his sweater. Once more, his eyes found the play of colors around the room, his mind fading off into them, the sound from the speaker system bleeding out into background noise as he faded from complete existence in the here and now and into the realm that stood between waking and sleep.

As the movie pressed onward, Dick's blinking turned into closing his eyes for longer and longer periods of time until, finally, he fell into the warm embrace of sleep, Damian's warmth radiating to him even from his spot on the floor in front of the couch.

Nearly an hour later, Dick surfaced from his nap, though it came slowly, with the impression attached that he was waking up for a reason that he should be stealthy about. It was the way he'd come out of sleep the time he'd woken to a strange woman in his apartment, sifting through his things. Careful to keep his breathing regulated, drawn out as he'd done in sleep, he started to tune himself in to the world around him, trying to see what had woken him to start with.

A little breathy gasp came from Damian, and Dick cracked his eyelid open just enough to see a sliver of the TV in front of him and Damian seated on the just below him. A little shiver trembled through Damian and Dick almost opened his mouth to ask him if he was okay, but ate his words a second later. Damian's arm began to move in a way that was unmistakable, utterly obvious for what it was. Dick dared to crack open his other eyelid to make sure he wasn't completely imagining things. Damian's full form came into view and sure enough, he had his hand stuffed down the front of his sweat pants and was definitely going after himself in a rather unabashed manner.

For an instant, Dick was frozen by the scene, transfixed by the whole of it in a way that had him struggling to keep his breathing regulated. His pulse pounded in his ears as he just stared. He'd always thought Damian slightly ballsy, but he'd never thought something like this would be up the kid's alley; particularly not something so... blatant. Damian was a very private person, to the point that he kept his own emotions walled up inside except for when he'd reveal little pieces of himself to Dick, something that had only started after Damian had become his Robin. 

The idea began to blossom in his mind that perhaps that was why Damian hadn't hesitated to go forward with whatever had caused him to be turned on, why he was now in the middle of the parlor, stroking his cock like there would be no tomorrow. The words bubbled up again to tell Damian he was awake or to at least try to make sleepy sounds to warn the kid he was waking up... anything. But they all cut short a second later, as Damian's hips arched and his pants slid down his hips to mid-thigh, revealing him to the room. Dick watched as Damian's hand wrapped around his thick length and began to stroke again, his touch sure in a way that told Dick he'd been doing this for a while and it wasn't just a new thing that had him riled up like this. 

Dick pressed his lips tightly together, doing his best to keep his breathing the same pace, even as his heart raced and fire built in the pit of his stomach that had everything to do with what he was seeing here in front of him. Damian's hand moved faster, his free hand coming down to cup his sac, squeezing, and Dick nearly didn't catch a moan of his own. Alarm shot through him at the idea that he was watching _Damian_ do this. This was... well, it certainly wasn't right. Not that watching something he chose to do was inherently wrong either, but their age told a different story, one he didn't care to dwell on too long. 

Dick closed his eyes, sending every curse he knew up into the universe for putting him in this situation, for making him look at Damian in a way he'd never done so before. Damian was his claimed brother, his family... his _Robin_. He certainly had never been an object of Dick's lust and he wasn't about to accept the fact that he was currently, even if it was just from the show he was receiving. 

Below him Damian gasped again and the couch moved slightly. Dick imagined he was arching up, using the couch as leverage to hump his hips toward the ceiling as he neared his end. He heard the thin whimper and without his permission at all, his eyelids fluttered open. He watched as Damian pushed up against his fist a few times and then started to cum, thick spurts of it landing over his fist and dripping down onto his thigh. He heard the sated little sound and his own cock gave an insistent throb at the show he'd just witnessed. 

Damian settled, wiping his cum off of his dick and then shifting, as if to turn. Dick closed his eyes and did his level best to pretend to still be asleep as Damian reached over the top of him for the tissue box. At the rustle of it, Dick used it as an excuse to paste an annoyed look on his face and groan as he rolled over to face the back of the couch, drawing one thigh closer to himself to hide the evidence of his own arousal. He wasn't sure if it was enough or not, but he sure as hell was going to try. Because this was nothing if not truly fucked up.

He heard Damian moving around, the shuffle of tissue and then clothing before he heard Damian picking up the remote and everything pausing for a minute or so. When the movie started again, it was a good twenty minutes back in the film. He'd obviously rewound it back to when he'd stopped paying attention.

Dick remained where he was until they were back at the same part of the film as before, finally making noises like he was waking up, and then stretching a bit, his hips pressing against the back of the couch. He was still hard, but not so entirely so that he would be comically obvious if he stood up. He licked his lips and then sat up, wiping at his face, yawning, and then muttering something mostly incoherent as he stepped past Damian and headed for the bathroom down the hallway.

Damian didn't even look up at him as he passed by, something Dick was grateful for. Once inside the restroom, he closed the door and leaned back against the door, biting at his lower lip as he pushed his hips forward, letting his arousal get the better of him. His breath stuttered a few times and he arched further, shivering. Reaching behind himself, he flicked the lock on the door and pushed away from it, moving to the edge of the huge tub and settling on the part that was meant to contain a large bath pillow, making a perfect little seat without the pillow in the way. Unfastening his pants, he yanked them out of the way, revealing his cock, which had already returned to his previous level of arousal on the way into the bathroom.

Tipping his head back, he arched his hips and breathed out a soft sigh as he placed his hand against the tip and began to rock his hips. He simply tortured himself for a while, rubbing against his palm until he'd left a faintly sticky mess of pre-cum coating his skin. Wiping it over the head and then down the shaft, he gripped himself and started to actually jack off. His movements weren't subtle and really weren't all that quiet. His free hand gripped the tub until he was white-knuckling it as he panted, stroking faster, his breath coming in little whimpering gasps.

It was over before it even fully started, Dick arching up hard and shoving his hips forward, fucking his cock into his fist in the same way Damian had in those last few seconds. And when he came, it was with a surprised little sound he only half managed to bite back, cum shooting over the side of the tub, splattering the deep navy surface and turning him on even worse for a few seconds. His hips jerked hard until he whined and collapsed back against the wall, panting for his breath. It was then that he realized how much more control Damian had over himself, the realization hitting him that Damian hadn't even been breathing hard once he'd cum.

He gave a little curse, pushing himself up and rolling some tissue off the roll, reaching to mop up the mess on his hand and his cock, then getting another wad to clean up the tub. Quietly, he opened the toilet lid and ditched the tissue in before tucking himself away, doing up his pants, closing the lid less quietly, and flushing. He washed up and sprayed some air freshener in the room before looking up into the mirror. He caught his own reflection in it and reached to run a hand through his hair. Even here, alone in the bathroom, he looked guilty as hell. He sighed and flicked off the light. Stoning himself against the idea that it'd be so obvious what he'd done and why, he opened the door and stepped out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song[s]: Various by Celldweller

Dick returned to Blüdhaven the following morning, slipping right back into his usual routine without so much as a second thought as to what had happened the evening before. That night, he'd written it off as either Damian being a typical teenager - because really, who hadn't done something daring sexually in those years - or as a kink he just happened to have. Either way, once morning had come, he had moved forward.

Now, he sat in front of his monitor, fingers tapping away at his keyboard as he logged in some files from where the Titans who'd filled in for him the past twenty four hours. He had left them computer access, but hadn't asked for log files. Still, he'd gotten a brief and felt it best to continue on his somewhat methodical system of keeping track of the happenings in his areas. Two muggings, one robbery, an attempted car-jacking, three drug deals, and one pimp being a complete asshole. But nothing further than that sort of thing, at least. It'd been, for all intents and purposes, a very easy night.

He pushed back from the desk and ran a hand through his hair, tipping back a little on the chair, smirking to himself. He tipped it back even more and brought his arms out to hold himself steady. Just a little more... and his body moved forward to compensate for how far back he was tilting. Three more seconds, all carefully counted, and he threw himself off the chair, landing quietly and reaching back to snatch the chair before it hit the floor. He righted the chair and locked the computer system, padding softly through his apartment to the patio. He slid the glass door open and stepped outside. Leaning on the railing, he glanced at his watch, feigning the need to check the time.

Nine past seven. Darkness was already reaching delicate fingers out through the sky, light fading into a warm purple and orange glow over the horizon. He felt the presence before he heard or saw it, though he made no reaction to it. A light flared to his left and the scent of tobacco came to him. The scent of smoke filled his nostrils and a moment later, Jason was at his side, leaning on the railing like he belonged there. And maybe he did, given Dick had been pulling in reports from him for a good year now, just like this, once a week.

"Earth to Dickie." Jason's voice held a vaguely teasing note, though mostly it was exasperated.

"I know you're here. Just waiting you to engage your mouth, Jay." Dick's lips quirked up slightly. "Stats?"

"All about the business with you, isn't it?" Jason sighed, turning around so he was leaning his back against the rail, facing toward the inside of Dick's apartment. "Three counts of rape, one dead little rapist. Two murder vics, one dark shadow, and twenty five cases of various robbery. One rogue little birdie, one demented little birdie, one pathetic acrobat, one asshole of a bat, and... whatever the hell you log me as in your books. Plus we got a new kid on the block. Ugly as hell orange suit, black stripe up the side... and gets in more trouble than he stops. Saved his ass twice already and tried to scare him out of my part of the city. Haven't seen him since two nights ago."

Dick just bypassed the comments about Jason having seen them all in action at some point and went right for the two things that needed elaboration in his notes. "I assume you killed the rapist then?"

"Your assumptions are not making an ass out of you today, so you presume correctly."

Sometimes Jason's way of giving him his reports was more infuriating than trying to decipher Bruce's shorthand. But hell if he wasn't going to just put up with it. Besides, Jay was always a pleasure when he wasn't being forced into giving reports. Sometimes Dick thought it was because it reminded Jason too much of Bruce and that was why he became a total ass when providing his regaling stories. "And the new kid... age guess?"

"Probably late teens, early twenties. He knows some martial arts, but not enough to be doing this shit."

Dick snorted a little. "You think I don't know enough to be doing this shit if I should take 'pathetic acrobat' to mean anything. Scale the kid, one to ten, ten being what you hold in highest esteem, about a five being our little rouge birdie, and one being a normal civilian."

"He'd be angry to hear you say he was only a five." Jay clicked his tongue and turned to smirk at Dick, his eyes alight with pleasure. "I'll have to tell him. Where do you fall on that scale, Dickie? Are you the ten you want me to be talking about? That conceited?"

"Ten's whatever you think it should be and if I had to rank myself against our rogue Robin... well, let's say six to seven, to be fair."

"Mmm... three on a good day for orange kid. Usually a two. He almost fell off a building last time I saw him."

"Last time I checked, you fall off buildings all the time."

"Yeah, but I catch myself. He doesn't have the equipment or the knowhow."

Dick sighed, pushing away from the rail. "Sounds like we've got trouble then. I'll let the others know. Best to keep an eye out for him before he meddles in something bigger than he can handle." He could hear the steady drag of breath as Jason sucked down most of his cigarette in one go. God that had to be a pain in the ass... or maybe lungs was more accurate. "I'll spare you the lecture on letting the law take care of things and assume you knew what you were doing on the other matter."

"Caught in the act. The person he was after is okay... in case you cared about that part." Jason sounded almost irritated.

"Jay..." Dick was quiet as he paused by his doorway. "If they hadn't been, you'd have told me that first. I know your priorities by now, even if you don't want me to."

"Fair." Jason lept back up onto the railing. "Same bat time, same bat place next week." He shot a grin down at Dick for the horrible joke and then stepped off the railing into the night, disappearing into the rapidly darkening air.

Dick heard the familiar hiss of line, the catch of a grapple, and then smiled as he saw Jason swing up onto the next building's roof and dash off across it. And he had the gall to call him a showoff. Shaking his head, he turned to go back inside, intent to log Jason's stats before he made his own rounds of the city for the night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "Epiphany" by Staind

Rain splashed against the windowpane, the violent staccato of it overpowering even the noise of the radio playing in another room somewhere in the manor. Dick stood in front of the window, his arms crossed over his chest, his stance tense, but intentionally so. He'd been called in to help tonight, but the weather had other plans, clearly. Bruce was upstairs getting dressed for the gala he was supposed to attend and God only knew where Damian had disappeared off to. 

They still had an hour before they were supposed to leave on patrol, but at this rate, with the storm warnings that had been blowing up his phone for the past hour, he was certain it wouldn't let up until far later in the night. Irritation wound through him and he couldn't help the way his body radiated it when he was within the safety of known walls. He pursed his lips and shifted to lean against the sill, forehead coming to rest on the glass. His breath fogged the glass on every exhale and with each inhale, cleared it up. 

The rain picked up even more, hail starting to mix in with it, and Dick closed his eyes, finally just giving himself over to it, letting the sound lull him into a world where security existed, where pain and anguish weren't a portion of the everyday life of Gotham. He brought one ringed hand up to the window, letting his palm press to the cool glass, the gentle clack of his ring on the pane somehow soothing. Taking in a deep breath, he let it out in a rush, fingers curling against the fog-dampened glass.

"Dick." Damian's voice was gentle, concerned, but also still withdrawn from everything. It held that protective quality to it that Dick knew all too well and every instinct inside of him screamed for him to take them out tonight anyway, to put on the cowl and make waves while Bruce was off at his little event. Opening his eyes, he gazed out across the grounds for another long moment before he pulled himself together and offered a quiet, "Yes?"

"Is everything..." Dick could almost see the loss for words on the kid's face, even though he wasn't facing him. Rather than waiting for him to finish, he turned around, a soft smile on his lips as he studied Damian as closely as he dared. There was a hesitance to his entire being that Dick knew no one else was every privy to seeing, a soft side... tenderness that Dick always felt completely blessed to be a part of. He took the two steps to close the distance between them, his hand coming to grip Damian's shoulder, squeezing lightly. "I'm fine, I promise. Just all this rain and hail is getting in the way."

Damian gave a small nod and Dick applied a little pressure again before letting go and straying toward the couch in front of the fireplace. "We'll give it an hour and if it's still this bad, we'll make it more of an appearance than anything else for the run. If it lets up, we'll go the full run." 

The couch dipped and Damian settled beside Dick, pulling his feet up under him on the cushion. He was close, but not touching Dick's side at all, only a hair's breadth between them. "It is a plan."

Dick picked up the remote and turned on the fireplace, watching it ignite. He still remembered when Bruce had upgraded it and how fascinated he'd been with it for the next few months. No more balling up newspaper and no more struggling with damp branches in the dead of the winter, but somehow it had lost part of its charm at that point as well. 

Footsteps came down the stairs and paused by the door and Dick lifted his hand, giving a little wave as he peered toward the door, only seeing the silhouette of Bruce standing in the doorway. Damian didn't even open his eyes from where he'd tilted his head back against the back of the couch and looked like he was dozing. But he offered a soft, "Father," telling Dick the kid was just getting better at pretending to be asleep. Or maybe he'd been meditating, he never knew anymore.

They gave it another hour and a half before the rain started to let up, the hail having come and gone quite a few times over the duration. Dick pushed himself up off the couch, walking around behind it, reaching to trail his hand through Damian's hair. "Let's go out for a bit, we'll see if we're just gonna make it a short one or a full run once we're out in it."

Damian unfolded himself from the couch, stretching, and then heading for the clock. Dick trailed along behind him, the fond little feeling in the pit of his stomach swelling as they entered the passageway, the clock sliding back into place as they made the descent into the cave. 

Getting ready was an easy affair, Dick gathering up the pieces of his old costume, the one from when he'd been Damian's Batman, and headed to the tiny changing room. Even as he pulled on the suit, he gave himself a moment to consider just how much he always came back to the time he and Damian had spent together as Batman and Robin, how much it meant to him that those moments never be forgotten.

By the time he was done, he found Damian just zipping up his boots next to the Batmobile. He gave the kid one last smile and then pulled on the cowl, settling Bruce's scowl on his face. One breath, two, and he felt himself slipping into shoes he had no hope of filling as completely as the role demanded. But hell if he didn't always try. They slid into the Batmobile and Dick thumbed himself into the scanner, relieved when it let him start the engine. He flicked a glance to Damian as the doors hissed closed. He knew why it was a biometric scanner now and it still amused him that Damian had taken the Batmobile out for a joyride. Not that he hadn't done it once upon a time. And he'd been caught, just the same as Damian. The thought flitted through his mind that, perhaps, Bruce hadn't told on him. 

The platform turned and he gunned the engine, taking off down the ramp and then taking them out through the tunnels that would put them out far from here. Coming out from underground, the rain hit the car an instant before the wind did, the push of it demanding Dick's full attention in driving, his mind settling on the task at hand tonight. 

Once they hit the heart of the city, Dick flipped on the scanner, waiting on something to tip them off in some direction or other, cruising the worse neighborhoods to make their presence known in the meantime. They didn't talk, didn't need to, as the silence had always been comfortable between them. It was something that he and Bruce had never mastered and it was the reason that he inevitably felt like he had to fill their silences with aimless chatter. He knew it drove Bruce crazy, but the silence had always done him in far more than Bruce's annoyance over his incessant speech. But with Damian, they just existed at one another's sides, simply there in presence. They held conversations at times, but they tended to die out naturally, fade away into silence again. There was just an ease that somehow calmed Dick deep down inside and even as they drove through the still pouring rain, he slowly came to realize that was a big part of what he was missing when he was out all alone in Blüdhaven. Silence alone was deafening, whereas silence with Damian was easy, filled with emotional significance that he'd never have alone.

"You are in your own head again." Damian's voice held authority, commanding attention, though it was still quiet inside of the car.

"Thinking about how much I miss this." There was little point in lying to him. Everyone knew Dick had always been a terrible lair and it was even worse when Damian was involved because he somehow felt like a horrible monster whenever he lied right to his face, even though it had always been little things, surprise Christmas gifts or plans for something Bruce was doing that didn't involve Damian. 

The creak of leather told Dick Damian was looking at him now, though he didn't chance the glance away from the road. "As do I." The three words spoke a hundred more and Dick felt the unspoken words swell inside of him, filling him to the brim with warmth and affection for the kid. 

"Sometimes I want it back. When I'm out there alone... I always catch myself looking for you."

"We were not even together that long." Damian's voice held a strained edge to it now, one that told Dick he was forcing himself to say the words in a particular way, maybe not the way he truly wanted.

"You know that never mattered. Not from day one. We're just synced up in a way even B and I weren't. We knew from that first time how to cover one another, how the other was going to move... it's the things I had to pick up over the years with him. The things I still fail at sometimes, even now. But with you, it was like breathing. I don't even think about it, I just know."

Silence greeted the end of Dick's words, but he couldn't help but feel like there was more spoken in the lack of words than there could have ever been in any Damian could have formed. He heard the quiet hitch in Damian's breath and he let it touch somewhere deep inside of him before he pulled himself back to the present.

Two more blocks and the scanner finally crackled on with a report of gunshots fired a few miles away. Dick took the next alleyway and pulled a loop, back toward the direction they'd just come from. He hit another alley and kept to them for the last half mile, hoping to get lucky. Two streets down, a shadow darted across the alley and up the fire escape to their left. The engine was cut and both of them were out in a second, the doors barely hissing shut as they shot their hooks to the top of the building. Damian took his halfway up, bounding off onto the fire escape platform and taking off upward after the guy. Dick rode his line all the way to the top and couched on the rooftop where he could watch the flash of yellow that was Damian's cape, keeping tabs on him, but going unnoticed. 

Damian chased the dark figure up the escape and right into Dick's waiting hands. He reached out and shoved the guy toward the wall, following up with an appropriately placed boot and the guy went down hard, a gun sliding across the rooftop. Damian landed on the roof a second later and Dick started to go in after the guy. Another movement caught the corner of his eye and in an instant, Damian was away from his left shoulder. Dick knelt to cuff the guy in front of him, angling himself to watch as Damian took down the second guy, wrenching the gun away from him and striking him once in the head with the butt of it, a precise placement and the guy dropped like lead. 

The magazine was dropped out into Damian's palm, the last bullet discharged from the chamber, and the gun tossed aside in record time. Dick kept his pride to himself for the time being, realizing that even with Bruce's ban on firearms, Damian had clearly learned how to use them enough to dismantle them. That didn't surprise him after the last fiasco. He tossed cuffs to Damian and waited, one foot on the perp's back as he watched Damian cuff the other one. His com bubbled to life, reports from the location of the shooting telling of a woman in critical condition and an elderly man dead. 

He switched lines and hit the link to GCPD, calling in the location and flicking a glance at Damian and then down to the man struggling and cursing under his boot. Damian knelt, holding the man's head still for a moment, jabbing hard at three pressure points before the guy went limp. Dick removed his boot from the guy's back and cut the call. 

Turning, he started for the edge of the building, feeling Damian's presence behind him and to the left. Pleasure swelled within him and even as he took a running leap for the edge, his line whirring out and the grapple clanking over the edge of the other building, he had to work to keep the smile off of his face. He heard Damian's line hit and then they were off, building to building, rushing across rooftops and just running for the edges of buildings in a way Bruce hadn't done in years. It was exhilarating... liberating in a way that screamed of freedom and happiness. Those moments spent in open air, free-falling for an instant before the hook took hold were the lungs that breathed life into Dick. It had always been that way for him, even up on the trapeze in his youth. The instant when he'd leap from the platform and there would be blessed nothing before he'd catch what he was supposed to had been the moments when nothing else mattered except life and living it.

And out here with Damian at his back, it was intensified to a point that was near intoxicating. He never wanted to give it up and every doubt he had when he was alone dissolved as if they'd never existed to start with.

He landed hard on the next building, crouching and catching his breath, eyes bright as he looked back out over Gotham's rooftops. Damian eased onto the roof, his steps rushing for a few moments and then he was crouching slightly behind Dick, his breathing far easier than Dick's own. "I'll never not miss this." Dick wasn't sure what made him spill the words out so bluntly, but he didn't regret letting them free once he had.

Damian stood up then, strolling past Dick by a few steps, standing there, his cape fluttering in the wind, rain starting to pelt them once again. The sky opened up and rain poured down in an instant, nearly drowning out Damian's words. "Me, too."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: Various by Lorde
> 
> These are the things I have to get out before I write sometimes... sorry for them being here, but sometimes I feel like it helps others to see the process.
> 
>  
> 
> _Musty haze and demented fabric. Pages torn from a book under cover of darkness. A single crystalline drop of essence met with the fuzz of a world long since destroyed. In my arms you are the reddened sacrifice of my pain, a hymn spoken to the gods above. This is the place, the play, the religion of my youth. The area of darkest deep within my soul, partial to the injustice of the world and the beginning of our time. A fragile whisper, delivered upon the wind. What does it mean? Who could tell, who could find? This is it, this is the sin of this city, the divine within. This is... the end._

Dick leaned back against the edge of the bar, a single drink in his hand, the glass cool against his palm. Lights flashed in near-blinding colors, the music loud enough no one could have possibly spoken to one another over the din of it. He'd spent a good minute yelling his order to the bartender before she'd shoved a list at him and he'd pointed at what he wanted. It should have been irritating, hard on the mind in all the worst ways. But it wasn't. The pulse of the music pounded in his veins, drowned out everything else, even his own thoughts were dulled down to the most basic pieces. A flash of a name here, the remnant of sensation there; it reminded him of the one time he'd gone so deep down undercover for Bruce that he'd had his very singular experience with things of the illegal sort of nature. 

Stepping away from the bar, he let himself hold onto that memory as he weaved his way through the crowd. _Pulsing music, silken skin._ Condensation slid down the side of the glass, slicking over his fingers. _The puff of hot breath at his back as his fingertips gripped the top of a stall door._ He could feel his own pulse pounding in his ears as he scanned the area, gaze turning darker as he sliced through the crowd, a man with a singular mission. _Calloused fingers on his cock, the roughness a sharp contrast to everything else he'd ever experienced in his life._ Dick's breathing ramped up, despite his best efforts to force it to stay normalized for the time being. _The shiver and groan at his back, heat sliding through his body, and the trigger of his own pleasure without so much as another touch._

Dick slipped into the hallway closest to the restrooms and the back exit, his heart pounding in his chest. He'd come to clear his head, come here to... to what? Finishing his drink off, he shoved the cup into a trash bin and pushed out the back door, letting it slam behind him. His jacket was somewhere inside and the wind whipped bitter cold around him, but he didn't let it stop him as he tore off down the alleyway, away from here, away from those memories; away from something he wasn't sure why he was running from to start with.

He only stopped when his lungs burned, when his fingertips were sore from scaling walls without his usual gloves. Sinking down onto a rooftop, he leaned back against the air unit, still and silent this time of the year, and brought trembling hands up to his face. Two deep breaths and he let his hands fall, closing his eyes and allowing the cold to seep into his body.

Sighing, he tilted his head back, letting it loll from side to side for a few moments before the familiar crunch of boots on the rooftop forced him to pay attention to the world around him instead of the one inside his head, the one he had never quite dealt with. Quietly, he pulled himself up into a crouch, ready in case he needed to be; but before they ever reached him, their voice came floating quiet across the rooftops to him. "Don't bother, just let me know how the hell you ended up in my part of the city tonight."

Dick let himself relax, pushing himself into a standing position and turning to face Jason, the other not even in his usual get-up. Tonight, he wore a pair of black jeans and a brown and red hoodie, the red hood pulled up to nearly obscure his face. Dick could still see from the way he carried himself that he was on patrol, simply that he hadn't bothered to suit up for the evening. Typical and arrogant, but he had no desire to call him on it. "Since it's not even my city anymore, I'll take it you might understand I'm not encroaching or something," he managed to quip back, though it sounded forced, even to his own ears.

Jason moved to lounge against the air unit, his hip pressed to it and his arm resting on top of it as he lifted his head to let Dick see his face. "Running again, then." It wasn't a question, not in the least. Rather it was just a statement of pure fact, something not to be argued with or even responded to if that wasn't what Dick needed. But at the same time, it was also an opening, a door shoved open and waiting for Dick to walk through it if he wanted. It wasn't the first time Jason had left him an opening to talk about this and sometimes Dick thought maybe Jay knew a few things he shouldn't have about those few months, all those years ago. 

Dick pulled himself up onto the air unit, his back to Jason as he stared out over the part of the city he could actually see from up here. It wasn't the best vantage point, but it was nice, all the same. He sifted through a hundred responses, flippant to thoughtful, assholeish to heart-wrenching, and no matter what he tried to force from his lips only one thing wanted to escape; the one thing he'd come to the club tonight to try to drown out. Dipping his head, watching the breeze sift through the last leaves on the trees on the street down below, he offered a quiet, "You of everyone would understand." Dick's fingers wrapped over the edge of the metal box, gripping hard enough his fingers went numb within seconds from the cold press of metal to skin. "Something that feels like regret. Thoughts we should never have, but we do."

Jason didn't move from his spot, but Dick could hear his breathing change as he tried to take in what Dick was telling him in the most roundabout of manners. "You know I was never good at these games. Sometimes you sound more like Bruce than you would care to hear about." It wasn't a gentle way of telling him he needed to be clearer and stop futzing around, but it slid a tiny hint of a smile onto Dick's lips, regardless. He could always count on Jason to kick his ass back into reality, to veer him off the nearly inevitable course of brooding darkness.

"Damian." Once his name was out there, Dick found he could breathe easier, that the air stopped catching in his chest, threatening to stifle him as it had been for nearly a week since he'd spent the night terrorizing the filth of Gotham. The release of that tension let his mind finally engage instead of constantly swirling around the same couple of relatively useless thoughts. Looking up, he gazed out across the sky, finding his favorite star and holding it in his field of vision. "Every time I go back out there with him, it reminds me of how we were... _are_ together. I've never felt so in sync with someone in my life." He shook his head, his voice dropping to nearly a whisper. "My parents and I weren't even like this, Jay... we trusted our lives to one another from the first memories I even have of them. And then Bruce and I... even Tim and I. But no one has ever felt like..." he trailed off, shaking his head, pausing as he struggled to find the words to express what he meant. "When we're out there, it's like we belong there. It's freedom and it's art as much as it is justice. I save him from himself and he fills that one piece of me that's been missing since that night my parent's died. Bruce tried, I'll give him that... but he could never fill that void. I didn't honestly think anyone could."

Jason shifted away from the air unit, walking around to stand in front of Dick, staring up at him, his arms crossed over his chest and a small frown on his face. "What way are you talking here, Dickie?" The tone of his voice held a warning, a sort of edge to it that warned Dick to step lightly in his responses and, if nothing else, to be careful who he spoke to like this - and Dick heard everything that was unsaid loud and clear.

Shaking his head, Dick drew in a deep breath, releasing it in a puff against the cold air. "I just want my Robin back," he offered quietly, his eyes meeting Jay's own. "But I have no right to ask for him." He gave a little shrug, pushing himself down from his perch. "Robin doesn't play second fiddle to the old used-up Robin. He's a Bat's bird and I'm no Bat."

Jay gave a little snort, reaching out to catch Dick as he started to walk past him. Holding onto his bicep, he squeezed a bit tighter than necessary. "Did you ever think it didn't have to be only like that? You can be a part of his life without it being his Bat."

Dick reached to place one of his own hands over Jay's own. "It's not that simple, Jay-bird. Trust me." Jason's fingers tightened and Dick returned his gaze to the stars above them, his words a whisper on the wind. "I've loved him for a long time. I've loved him like a brother. I've loved him like an over-protective father. I've loved him as my partner, my protector in the night, my Robin. And I love him still... but the thing is, I don't know what to do with this newer version. There's not a reason for it, there's not a way to define it, and while I accept it, that doesn't stop me being afraid of it... afraid of _me_ for it."

Jason's hand left Dick's arm and the crunch of gravel told Dick he was walking away from him. The steps paused at the edge of the building and when Jason spoke, it barely came back to Dick on the wind. "I can't help you with this one. You have to figure it out on your own. Just..." there was a sigh and Dick could almost picture Jason shaking his head, the faraway look in his eyes that was almost certainly there, "be careful with it, okay? He's just a kid."

And just like that, Jason was gone and Dick was left standing alone, on top of a building overlooking the worst parts of Gotham, a whole new weight on his shoulders and a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: The Pale Emperor by Marilyn Manson

Alfred placed the last of the movie-night snacks down on the end table closest to where Dick was curled up on the couch. He handed over a glass of water to Damian, some kind of pear and peach concoction to Tim - a drink Dick thought smelled horrible - and a cola to Dick himself. It was one of the rare nights they just ate complete garbage, regardless of what they knew they were supposed to be doing. Whenever Tim finally showed up, Alfred would go all out. Apparently, it had been a thing for Bruce and Tim to do when he'd been around and Alfred must have, in some small way, missed doing it for them. So whenever Tim showed up and movies came into play, they'd end up with bowls of chips and popcorn, a huge pizza, and a variety of horrible candy bars all over the floor and tables in the room. 

Tim had the pizza box in his lap, already tucking in his second slice, and Dick had to grin to himself as he turned on the movie and Alfred flicked out the lights on his way out. The movie started, some holiday comedy Tim had picked up on the way over, and Dick reached for a slice of pizza, letting out a huff of a laugh when both he and Damian went for the same slice. Dick let him have it and then grabbed the next one, settling back and focusing on the screen in front of him as he ate the all veggie pizza. It still amused him that Damian had insisted they order that one, as if this was going to somehow make the horror-show of food less bad for them by adding a couple of over-cooked vegetables to the top of carbohydrate overload. But, he figured, at least it didn't taste like shit.

Two slices of pizza and far too much popcorn later, Dick was curled up on his side of the couch, eyelids already heavy. He could hear Jason's voice inside his head, calling him a pathetic wuss for being ready to pass out before it ever even hit nine o'clock. Sighing a little, he just let his eyes close, listening to the movie continue, Tim's laughs quieting as if he knew Dick were trying to sleep.

Twice, Dick woke up just enough to notice something was happening. One of them was a switch in the movie to something Damian wanted to watch, and the other was when Tim laid down on the couch, his feet pressing to Dick's own as he eased into position, facing basically away from him. After that, Dick wasn't aware of a damn thing for what felt like a quiet eternity.

When he came to again, his heart was pounding, his fingertips tingling, and he was certain for a moment something was horribly wrong. He gave it a second to evaluate what had woken him, his breath still coming in evenly, his form just as still as it had been. Cracking his eyes open, he peered toward Tim, watching as the screen flickered to a brighter blue and he could see Tim's eyes were closed and his chest was rising and falling. Moving just the smallest amount he could get away with, he shifted his head to see Damian on the floor in front of the couch. 

Arousal slammed through him hard at the sight in front of him and he almost didn't manage to stop the groan that wanted to bubble up from inside of him. Somewhere in his hazy fog of a mind, the sluggish thought that this was becoming habit for the teen shoved its way in. He suppressed a shiver, flicking his eyes up to the screen to see if that was causing any of this. But the scene was just two people walking down a snow-covered street, talking about a fire that had happened somewhere in upper Manhattan. He dismissed that as the cause and flicked his gaze back to Damian's lap. The television's light was bright, showing very clearly what he was doing and it took everything Dick had to force his breathing to remain even.

Damian palmed his cock, fingers lightly running over the other side of his length and then sliding over the head. Again and again, he repeated the same process, toying with himself instead of full-on going after it like he had the time before. Dick could feel his own hands trembling slightly from the effort it took not to do or say something, from the sheer power of the emotions that raged through him at the sight he'd been greeted with. Damian gave a tiny little whimper, pulling his hand away from his length, and Dick watched as his cock bobbed just the slightest. Damian's hands went to the floor and he spread his legs more, pushing himself up, his head falling back against the couch as he pushed his hips up a few times. 

Dick knew he should close his eyes, he should look away before he got himself caught watching. But try as he might, he couldn't look away from the look of bliss on Damian's face, the way his eyelashes dusted across his skin, the way his lips parted as he panted for breath, the hot flush of his cheeks, and then the way his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip. Dick narrowly suppressed the shiver that threatened to rip through him, his own length giving a powerful throb, letting him know his need was urgent this time. There would be no ignoring it for as long as he had last time. 

Damian let himself settle back against the floor, his hand gripping his cock tight this time, stroking quickly... harshly... the sound of it more than enough to cause a disturbance in the room, and Dick found himself wondering if he'd been edging for a while before he'd woken up. One of Damian's hands went up to his mouth, one fingertip sliding in between his lips, his tongue flicking over it as he jacked off harder, his strokes purposeful, clearly aimed toward orgasm this time. And Dick prayed Tim wouldn't wake up with the noise, prayed Damian wouldn't open his eyes and catch him watching him with a hunger he never should have had. More than all of that, Dick hoped against all hope that Damian would cum for him, so pretty and passionate, like he had last time. 

The thought was barely processed when Damian's breath hitched and he trembled so hard Dick knew he was swallowing down a plethora of noises. A second later, Damian was losing it, thick splashes of cum landing on the carpeting between his legs, only a tiny bit getting on his fingers. Dick bit his lip hard enough he tasted copper in his mouth, suppressing a shudder so hard that his ears felt like they were burning off. He closed his eyes then, knowing well enough he would be caught in a moment if he didn't. 

The next few minutes were longer than he'd ever thought minutes could be, stretching out into eternity before him. Finally, he heard the sound of a zipper and then felt Damian's movement away from the couch. He opened his eyes then, blinking a few times and reaching to rub one hand over his eyeballs, yawning. Sitting up, he reached for his glass of soda, downing the last dredges of it, and placing the glass back on the end table. Damian didn't even look up at him and Tim didn't move on his end of the couch. Heart pounding, Dick stood up and skirted quickly behind the couch, muttering something about needing a piss, and headed for the restroom.

Once he was out of the parlor, he quickened his pace, hurrying down the hall to the bathroom. He had no interest in running into Alfred or Bruce on the way with the state his body was currently in. Slipping into the room, he pushed the door closed behind him, expecting to hear the snap of it closing, and instead hearing the thump of it hitting something else. He glanced back, half expecting to see some fallen object in the way, and instead found Tim stepping in behind him. "Hey, do you mind?" he managed, turning away, his hands already on his belt. 

Tim closed the door behind himself, flicking the lock, and then standing between Dick and the door, his arms crossed over his chest and a pissed off look on his face. "What the hell do you think you're playing at?"

Dick turned back enough to see the expression on Tim's face, his heart feeling like it was trying to fight its way up into his throat. He untucked his shirt, leaving his belt hanging loose, and pulled his shirt down enough to cover his current condition. His mind reeled over the hundred or so answers he came up with in a span of a few seconds, desperately grasping for one that made sense, but wasn't nearly as incriminating as the truth. His first instinct was to lie, but God, he'd never been able to lie to Tim's face and make it work. Nearly anyone else, yes, but not Tim. _Never_ Tim. His breath hitched as he tried to take a deep breath and he slumped against the counter, fingers grasping the marble surface. "It's not what it looks like... or... I don't know, maybe it is. Guess that depends on how you're looking at it."

"Why don't you just spit it out and not make me play a guessing game with what kind of horrible pervert you are." Tim's voice was hard, the words cutting Dick to the core. He'd always done all he could not to disappoint Tim and he knew this had to be a big blow, no matter how Tim was currently looking at the situation.

Staring down at the floor, Dick lifted one shoulder in a tiny shrug before shaking his head. "I wouldn't know where to start." His mind scrambled for an appropriate place to start with this, a place where he'd not end up in some horrible hell because of this, but still maybe get some sense talked into him over the direction of his current feelings toward Damian. The urge to spit out that he loved him was strong, but he didn't dare do it. Didn't dare let that part of himself out in front of Tim. Jason was one thing, the gray lines Jason walked allowing for hedging into the wrong territory as long as one didn't cross over it. But Tim... Tim was something else entirely. Probably the most by the books one of them aside from Bruce, and God how he didn't want to disappoint him. 

"How about you start with why the hell you _watched_ him the whole time," Tim spit out, his voice holding the edges of something Dick would have called horror... maybe shock within it.

Dick closed his eyes and let his form droop a little more, as if making himself smaller would help make this go away. Damian would have called him pathetic right then, he was sure. A coward. Wincing, he opened his mouth and let whatever words tumble out that would come forward. "Because... I don't know, Tim, what do you want me to tell you? That I'm a terrible person? That I found it incredibly erotic and I couldn't look away?" He lifted his head, eyelids opening and his gaze burning into Tim's own. "Or that it's not the first time and I can't find it in me to regret watching?"

He saw it coming, but he didn't even move away from it, didn't block himself from it. Tim's fist collided with his face and Dick let his head jerk with it, his hands gripping the countertop hard to stop himself from fighting back. A second later, Tim ripped him away from the counter and shoved him, stumbling, toward the wall. Dick thumped into it and slid down to the floor, lifting his head and watching Tim as he stood there, chest heaving, anger radiating from his entire being.

"You want to see me as a monster in this picture or you wouldn't be in here confronting me about it. Nothing I say can make you think anything else about me, so there's no point in defending myself with things like emotions or mistakes, right?" He reached up to wipe the blood from his lip, glancing down to see the crimson smear over the back of his hand. "It's probably better for me this way anyway. If you beat me until I can barely breathe, maybe it'll sort some of this mess out in my own head." His voice grew angry, the next words hissed out. "It's what Bruce taught us to do isn't it? Beat the truth out of everyone we want to talk to?"

The anger seemed to deflate from Tim then, his hands falling to his sides and his stance relaxing into something that looked nearly ashamed. The man that could have very well killed Dick a few seconds before melted away and left soft, vulnerable Tim behind; the one Dick was far more used to dealing with when they weren't in the field. Their eyes met and locked, nothing but the sound of their labored breathing on the air.

Finally, Tim moved to sit on the edge of the tub, gazing down at the floor. His words came quietly when they finally did. "Defend yourself."

Dick watched him for a moment longer before pulling his legs up and resting his arms across his knees, hands dangling down between. His head thumped against the wall and he sighed. "I've never touched him... if that's what you're thinking, then you're wrong." He reached to wipe at his lip again, the thin trickle of blood bothersome more than anything. Tim had gotten a good shot in and Dick was a little surprised he'd held it back enough that he wasn't missing a few teeth. At Tim's lack of response, Dick wiped his hand off on his jeans. "I could tell you a million things right now, but I don't think you want to hear about any of them except why I watched and why I was about to do what I was." He could sense Tim's anger swelling up, not even having to look up to see it in him. "I'm not going to deny any of it. Not only would it be pointless, but I've never lied to you and I'm not about to start." He let his head loll side to side against the wall, his eyelids closing again. "Some part of me hates myself for liking what I see when he does that. The first time, I just kept trying to understand why he did it. Maybe something got him excited or maybe he's just a damn teenager. And I almost said something to stop him, to let him know I was awake. I mean, he should know our senses would wake us up, right?" 

Dick wiped at his lip again and then let one leg slide down to rest fully against the floor. "I guess I didn't want to scare the shit out of him. If it's his thing, far be it for me to stop him from it, you know? Or maybe that was me just trying to justify it to myself that I wasn't stopping him. I don't honestly know on that one. What I do know is that both times it's turned me on something awful. The first time, I just sort of dismissed it by the next morning. But this time, I'm going to guess having my ass kicked over it won't let me let it go that easily." Opening his eyes, he turned his head to gaze toward Tim, his brows knitting closer together as he found Tim looking honestly more vulnerable than he'd ever seen him as he sat there, a haunting look in his eyes as he looked straight ahead. "Tim?"

He blinked and it was gone, the angry, hard look back instead. One hand balled into a fist, the other gripping his own pants so hard it had to be hurting him. "I'm glad you can make excuses to yourself, but the hard truth of it is, you're watching a damn teenager, Dick." His voice was dripping with venom as he spit the words out. "He's barely sixteen years old and God only fucking knows how old he was when you watched him the first time. It's _sick_ , that's what it is. And if you were someone we were hunting down, you'd condemn yourself for it and you know it." He stood up then, towering over Dick. "We've all done some fucked up shit, but this one wins the damn cake, Dick. If I _ever_ catch you doing it again, if I ever hear wind of it, or if you even _think_ about putting your hands on him, so help me God, I will make you wish you were dead." He turned toward the door, taking two steps and then pausing, his back to Dick. "I'm letting this stay between us this time. Next time, everyone will know what sick things you've done and I'll let them line up to kick the shit out of you. Whatever the hell this is, get it out of your system _now_ , before you leave this room. And if you can't... then get the hell out of his life. Are we clear?"

Dick watched Tim from his spot on the floor, wincing a little at the words. "Crystal."

Tim moved to the door, opening it and stepping out, shutting it quietly behind himself, which was probably worse than if he'd slammed it shut instead. Dick sagged against the wall, pushing one hand through his hair, a pained look on his face that had absolutely nothing to do with the cut in his lip or the ache in his teeth and jaw.


	8. Chapter 8

The days after Tim had kicked Dick's ass - perhaps more mentally than physically - were nearly the end of Dick's ability to deal with things. He found himself staying strictly to Blüdhaven, refusing to go back to help Bruce with something he asked him to do. He knew it made him the object of more scrutiny, but he couldn't help but think to himself that he definitely wasn't about to get over Damian anytime soon. Perhaps _never_ was a better term in this particular case. 

He sat in a café now, three weeks from the incident, a cup of coffee in his hand and a beautiful girl across the table from him. He still wasn't sure what had possessed him to reach out so far back in his contact lists to find this one girl he'd ended up cheating out of a night with himself several years before. Maybe it was the fact that he'd been called away before he'd gotten her to his home that night or maybe it was that he was trying to forget the one person who plagued his mind enough that he couldn't even seek pleasure in himself these days. Some people drank to forget; God knew he'd accused Bruce of such a thing. Dick... he got himself tangled up in someone's arms to forget. He'd been called a lot of things in his life and rarely did any of them ring true, but no one had ever been wrong when they'd called him things like womanizer or whore. The connotations were, perhaps, not entirely accurate, but the sentiment was. When one used the pleasures of their body to escape, they may as well have been categorized as such... at least in the public view, he supposed. 

"Are you okay?" A soft, feminine hand landed on top of his own.

Jerking his head up, Dick gazed at the woman in front of him, realizing he'd drifted off into his own mind again and for the third time he'd started ignoring what she was saying. Normally, he would never have given someone he fully intended to invite to his bedroom so little attention. But his mind had been everywhere but present for the past while. He'd been nearly killed out in the field twice, enough so that he'd asked someone else to cover his area for a while as he nursed a few broken ribs and a knife wound from someone he'd never even seen coming at him. 

Sitting back in his seat, he slowly shook his head. "Honestly... no." He turned his head to gaze out the window, his eyes sad as he took in the clouds that threatened to roll in over the city. "Have you ever tried to run from something so hard that all you do is keep running smack into it?"

Her hand left his, a breath of air escaping her as she sat forward, leaning her chin on her hand. "Emotionally... sure. It's pointless to run from things like that. All it does is make you think about it even more. You try to escape it because it hurts you to think on it, but by forcing yourself not to, you _are_ thinking about it anyway." She moved one long-nailed hand to the table and lightly ran one through condensation from her drink, pushing the water around on the black surface. "It's not a great situation to be in."

Dick looked back at her, watching her hand move on the table, trying to make his mind think of her hand in another way entirely, to get himself back on track. But it was a hopeless endeavor, nothing about it making him want to actually fall into bed with her today. Sure, he'd go for it if he got her, but there was no joy in the hunt like usual. And lord had there been a spark before... he'd wanted her so bad he'd been angry that duty had dragged him away. 

Looking back out the window, he offered a quiet, "If you can't run from it and you can't accept it, what the hell can you do?"

She was silent for a minute and then stood up, moving to touch his shoulder, squeezing it lightly until he looked up into her eyes. The sincerity there was stunning, her green eyes catching his breath and making him ache even harder for what he was trying his best to deny. "Talk to whoever it is causing the emotion you're running from. Maybe not about what it is exactly, but have a genuine, deep conversation with them. It'll spark that feeling hard enough to tell you how you need to deal with it." She leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "And stop trying to cover it with something else. It won't help. Good luck, Dick." She straightened and picked up her coffee, turning away and walking out the door, leaving him to contemplate his cooling coffee and the incoming dreary weather.

\---

Another week found Dick inside the cave. He'd come because he'd been required to, not because he wanted to. Bruce had asked his help numerous times and he'd always found a reason to get out of it until, finally, he'd been told either come or Bruce would find him and it wouldn't be good. The conversation had hinted at the fact that Bruce knew he wasn't doing what he said he needed to when he'd been avoiding coming over. How was an entirely different matter, but he wasn't about to delve into that one right then. Instead, he'd dropped everything, and come over, fully-suited up and one hundred percent into his official I-hate-this-shit attitude.

He stood with his arms crossed and his lips set in a thin line while he listened to Bruce go over the evidence against a company that seemed to be drugging their employees every few weeks, injecting them with something, and then letting them free on Gotham. The employees were all unaware of whatever was going on, it seemed, but they'd been doing some really strange things that they only held vague memories of after going in for 'health checkups' once a month. Regardless of what was going on, it didn't seem like it was nearly as big of a deal as Bruce had made it out to be. Just something they needed to collect the evidence for and then turn it in to get it to stop. Not much else.

Dick's eyes moved from the screen to Bruce, the sound of his voice having stopped, and he found Bruce staring at him, a strained expression on his face. Mentally, Dick fumbled over the last few things Bruce had said, looking for the thing he was supposed to have commented on. But nothing rang a bell and, finally, he sighed. "What do you want me to say? It's strange, but I don't see why I need to be involved in it."

Bruce shifted, leaning back against the desk and letting his hands rest on the edges of the metal surface. "Because you wouldn't come for the ones you really were needed for. Because you've been avoiding coming back ever since what was supposed to be movie night. Alfred says you left with a bruised jaw and a split lip and Tim left like someone had lit his ass on fire. I understand if you're angry at him, but I'm not inviting you both to work on these things. I've been accused of being tactless and occasionally oblivious, but I'm no idiot."

Wincing, Dick looked at the monitors, watching the surveillance feed from outside the office suites of the company in question. Finally, he offered a quiet, "So you need me on this because I wouldn't come before, is that it?"

"No." Bruce reached back to cut the feeds and turn the screens black. Their eyes met again and Dick found himself caught in Bruce's gaze in a way he knew he couldn't simply look away from. "I'm not the only one noticing your absence and I'm far less affected by your refusal to be here than someone else is."

Anguish lanced through Dick as he realized in an effort to try to deal with his own emotions, he'd pushed Damian away completely. He'd ignored every form of contact the kid had reached out to him with. Com lines and texts, emails and even one knock on the door in the middle of the night that he was fairly certain had been Damian. He let his gaze drop from Bruce's finally, shame filling him. "I've been trying to deal with some shit, okay? We all have to take time to deal once in a while."

Bruce moved away from the desk, his steps heading toward the stairs up toward the manor. "Then get your shit together and get back in the game. Blüdhaven needs you just as much."

Dick watched him go, unmoving from his place beside the monitors, refusing to take the bait to go up into the manor when he knew Damian would be there. Not like this... not out of the blue. He needed time to prepare, a topic to discuss. And if he was caught off-guard, he'd be utterly unable to do more than blurt out the things he wanted to say rather than the ones he needed to.

Turning around, he took two steps back toward his bike and then stopped short as Damian eased himself from the shadows beside the Batmobile. Their eyes locked and Dick's heart leapt into his throat. He couldn't have this conversation here, not where Bruce recorded everything, where he'd feel like he was violating two things instead of one by even looking at the kid. _Kid_ , he reminded himself for the hundredth time. He just had to keep thinking of him as a child and not as a teenager... a teenager who was dangerously close to crossing the line to adult... mentally already far past that line before he'd even hit his teens. Wetting his lips, he swallowed thickly and tried to plaster a small smile on his lips. "Hey." Even the single word felt forced, strained in a way that he'd never felt with Damian in the past. They'd always been so easy with one another, ever since Damian had become his Robin.

 _His Robin._ Protective instinct flared up and immediately, he felt the intense desire to soothe every line of worry from Damian's face, to take him in his arms and hold him close, even if he heard the huff of breath that meant Damian felt like he needed to put on a show of not wanting affection while he did. Even if- _no_. He cut the thoughts off and forced himself to try to think of a serious topic to discuss, something far away from the real one, but enough to make himself confront Damian in an emotional sort of way.

"What is it that you believe I've done?" Damian's voice was quiet, level in a manner that spoke of pain.

Dick's gut flip-flopped and his thoughts derailed. The pain there was raw, utterly distraught. His eyes found pretty jade before he could stop himself, his body moving one step closer out of instinct. "Nothing. You've done nothing wrong, I promise you that."

Anger flared then, Damian's face transforming into the mask of fury that had always scared the ever living shit out of Dick. It was the hard lines of the trained assassin, the anger of a child who never had a childhood, the fury of a person who knew they'd been wronged again and again in their life and that most of it was on their shoulders to burden, like it or not. Dick took a half step backwards as Damian advanced, his hand coming out and grasping the front of Dick's shirt. There was restraint there, a tenseness in the way he did it that implied a million held back reactions. "You avoid me. You have never done so before. What did I do? Tell me the truth!"

Dick's heart seized, his eyes surely betraying his own heart-break, his own fear and - God help him - every ounce of his love for Damian. He didn't move to defend himself or to try to remove the hand from his suit. Instead, he shook his head just the slightest. "It's not you who did something." Okay, so maybe it was. Maybe it was Damian's actions that landed them here, that made Dick realize something that might have come to natural fruition years down the road, when it would have been acceptable and wouldn't have been such an utter hell, as it was now. 

Looking hard into Damian's gaze, he found that flicker of fear beneath the anger, the part that was born of knowing you'd done something wrong and knowing it was breaking something and fearing it even as it was happening. And in that second, Dick was positive Damian had done everything with the understanding that Dick would see it, that maybe even Tim would see. It hadn't just been teenage hormones acting up or some perverse little thrill of something he wanted to get away with without being caught. It had been completely on purpose, with the full intent of being caught at it and now Damian was filled with regret and fear that he'd pushed Dick away with his actions. 

What had he told Bruce? Had he begged him to get Dick back here? What lie could have been birthed to push him into action without incriminating Damian in doing something so brazen and Dick in watching? His hands shook as he moved to gently remove Damian's hand from his outfit, lightly squeezing it before he let go. He couldn't look him in the eye now, but he had his answers. At least in some way, it wasn't entirely one-sided and maybe that made it more tolerable to deal with, made him slightly less of an asshole for watching. After all, teenagers made mistakes, right? And adults did, too... everyone did from time to time. He knew it was only a justification even as he let it soothe the ache inside of him, even as he took in a breath and let out part of his guilt with the steady stream of air from his lungs. "Me and Tim had a fight, okay? And I was the one in the wrong on this one. I just needed to deal with it by myself, that's all." He paused for a moment and then tacked on quietly, "I'm not angry at you. Even if I was, I couldn't be for long."

It seemed to be what Damian needed to hear, his anger easing off, though not completely erased as he stood back just enough to give Dick breathing room. There were a few moments in which Dick wondered if they were even going to keep talking before Damian turned his back on him, taking a few steps and then pausing. His voice was quiet, full of sincerity when he spoke. "Stay for dinner. Alfred made your favorite."

Dick closed his eyes against the onslaught of emotion those few words truly spoke coming from Damian's mouth. _Don't leave me. Stop running away. I'm sorry. I told Alfred to make your favorite because you'll be too grateful to leave so soon if I tell you this._ It was all unspoken, but poignant in its truth. Dick slowly removed his gloves and moved to put them on his bike, where he'd left his mask. "I'll go change and stay for dinner. Let Alfred and Bruce know I'll be about twenty minutes. I've got some footage to look over for Bruce."

Maybe... just maybe things would be okay.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: Born Villain by Marilyn Manson

Dick stood at the edge of the water, the bitter wind coming in from the east whipping over his form and making him wish he still had a cape for the first time in years. He refused to let the shiver slide through his body, even as his breath caught at the pain of it. Movement came to his left and he let the person come at him, the dark shape of his attacker whipping toward him in the lightening haze of the pre-dawn sky. 

Something else zipped by overhead and an instant later, the man who had been coming toward him fell to the ground. Another shadow slipped from the top of the boathouse, steps nearly impossible to hear, and a second later, Jason was standing over the corpse to Dick's left. Jason gave a snort. "You'd think he would have noticed Nightwing shouldn't be standing by the water doing absolutely nothing."

Dick let a small smirk slip over his lips. "He was an idiot... we both knew that." He purposely didn't look down at the body, kept his gaze out across the water. He didn't have to report what he didn't see. It was a loophole he'd been working with when it came to Red Hood for years now. What he didn't know for sure, he couldn't go back to Bruce with. He'd report what he did know and shrug his way through the rest. In a way, he understood that Bruce knew what he was doing, but he also thought, perhaps, he was grateful for it. Dick's constant interaction with Jason kept him mostly in the gray area and it kept a peace between Bruce and Jason that had been nearly unheard of for a while there.

Jay muttered, "Cover your ears, pretty bird," and Dick closed his eyes and began to hum a song he'd had stuck in his head as Jason rolled the body off the dock and into the water. He could still hear the gentle sploosh of the water, but it was deniable. "And the fishes fuckin' sing," Jason offered, clapping Dick on the shoulder. "Let's ride."

Turning, Dick took off after Jason. They mounted their bikes and Dick led them out of Gotham and back into Blüdhaven. They drove part of his usual route for the night, something he had been lax on in order to lay the trap for the asshole Jay had just sent to sleep with the fish, but he still felt like he needed to cover some part of it. Make his presence known, if nothing else. 

An hour later, he drove his bike into his garage and cut the engine, Jason's coming in beside his own and Dick hit the remote to close the door behind them. Dismounting, he let the scanners tell him they were alone before he began to remove pieces of his costume. Jason's helmet was laid out on the seat of his bike, jacket thrown over the handlebars before he disappeared into the tiny washroom. 

Dick came to lean his rear against the doorjamb as he unzipped his suit and shrugged out of the top of it, pulling on a tank top. Jay finished washing up at the sink and moved to the toilet, lifting the lid and turning his back on Dick as he went about his business. Dick took the opportunity to free himself of the lower half of his suit and pull on a pair of jeans, tossing the suit into the tiny washer. He washed his hands, face, and armpits before drying off and changing spaces with Jason. 

Sometimes he marveled at the tandem in which they operated when given the chance. Granted, it was nothing like with Damian and he held none of the same sorts of affection for Jay. But he liked him. If he was honest, he liked who he was now better than who he'd been before; he appreciated the lines Jason walked that he couldn't and his way of dealing with things when he got backed into a corner. Bruce had once called him scrappy, but efficient, and Dick tended to agree.

Exiting the room, he paused to grab two beers from the mini fridge, popping the tops off on the opener above it, handing one over to Jason. He went to lean on the rail overlooking their bikes and huffed out a soft breath. "I was bait in an operation with you to catch a serial offender. The man showed up and I got distracted, turned my back for a moment, and he disappeared. I don't know a damn thing other than that."

Jason eased himself against the rail with a dark chuckle. "Dickie, you think he really believes you?"

"I think he wants to ignore the lies I tell in this case." Dick gave Jason a sincere look and then took a swig of his beer. Swallowing, he offered, "What he doesn't know, he can't go after you for. When I tell him these white lies, he ignores it in favor of letting you exist as you are. He sees sense in your methods, Jay... he always has. It just can't be him and he can't condone it." The words came easier this time, though with nearly none of the weight they'd held when he'd spoken similar ones to Damian. Maybe it had been the time, maybe it had been the situation, he didn't know. 

"Then we'll let him keep hearing them." Jay held up his beer, clinked it with Dick's, and then downed a bit more of it. They stood in silence through nearly the entirety of their drinks before Jason spoke up again. "I've been avoiding this, but I don't think I can anymore. Tim came to me and-"

Dick jerked his head to the side, giving Jason a warning look, silencing him as he shook his head. "Jay... Tim and I had a fight, okay? He kicked some sense into me and I did my best to avoid a screwed up situation. I can't say I'm better now or that I've changed how I feel, because I haven't. But damn it, all of you have got to believe I'm telling you the truth on this one. I didn't _do_ anything."

"Not saying you have." Jay spread one hand out, palm up, and shrugged. "I'm not accusing or anything like that, don't get me wrong here. I just want what's best for everyone involved. I'm reasonable like that, ya know?"

Dick sighed, slumping against the railing and hanging his head. "I don't want to rehash things because it makes me think about it and I know I shouldn't. But some shit happened and Tim got the wrong idea. I'm putting a stop to the whole thing by refusing to stay late over there unless it's work-related with B." He pushed a hand through his hair, slugged down the rest of his beer, and tossed the bottle into the trash barrel below. "Just so we're clear here, there's two sides to this and while I'm still muddy as hell on Damian's side, trust me that it exists and this isn't entirely just me."

"I'm not here to lecture you." Jason let his bottle drop into the bin as well and then turned around to lean back against the railing. "I don't pretend to understand the situation and I'm pretty sure I don't want to know about all of it. I wouldn't let Tim tell me everything because - as I told him - I don't want to have to choke you out. Call it denial of a situation. I'm sure his threat is probably enough to tell you to get your ass on the right train tracks, but if it's not, I offer you this one to chew on. B gets wind of this shit and you're a dead man. Tim won't have to raise a single finger."

Dick let his hand trail over the iron rails, sure his face was a mask of the grief he felt over the words being spoken. "I won't be the cause of his end... I won't be, okay? I need to say this in the most blunt way possible, Jay, and I need you to believe me." He looked over at him, waiting until he had his gaze locked with Jason's own. "I have not - and will not - touch Damian in any way unallowable by any law I know of. I can't cut off my own emotions, but I am more than capable of not acting on them. I love him and with that comes respecting everything about him, including his age. But I cannot stop him from what he's doing or change what has happened in the past. I've made every adjustment to who we are to not put myself in a situation like that again and that's really all I can do. Because - and we both know this - if I'm not there for him in other ways, it's not going to end pretty for him or B."

Jay gave him a pinched look and then turned his head, gazing at the piping on the wall. "I believe you. I think if you did him wrong, it would kill you so much that we'd all see it written on your face as if it were a neon sign of your guilt. But don't delude yourself into thinking his father might not see it the same way if he ever finds out. Best pray to whatever the hell you believe in that nothing ever comes of it or your goose is cooked, ex-birdie or not." He shifted then, reaching to pat Dick on the shoulder as he passed him by, heading back down to their bikes.

Dick remained where he was, watching Jason with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He watched him pull on his gloves and mount the bike, watched his helmet slide on. He reached down and hit the button for the door, watching it slide up as Jay revved his engine. As he pulled out into the broadening day, Dick whispered out his final words to Jay, knowing he'd never get the courage to say them to his face. "I won't stop loving him just because it's wrong. But I'm not about to ruin his life after I've already sullied my own. I'll do what it takes, Jay-bird... I'll die if that's what it comes to. But only when the time is right, only when he can be free of his past."

The garage door slid shut and Dick closed his eyes, thinking to himself that it sounded an awful lot like finality.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "Dry" by DECAYS, "Jealous -reverse-" by Dir en grey

Dick woke with a gasp, the sound of sirens yanking him forcefully from the disheveled grasp of his dreams. These weren't normal sirens either, these were long, low wails of a system Dick long thought utterly dead and unused. He was up in an instant, stumbling from the bed and right to his drawers, yanking out the false bottom and grasping his spare suit, tugging it on without even thinking twice about it. Rubbing sleep from the corner of his eyes, he shoved his feet into his boots and laced them up with three efficient movements per. His spare holster and sticks went on and then his mask, slid into place as he raced for the back doors. He grabbed his com from the stand beside the sliding glass door and wrenched it open, shoving the earpiece in as he winced at the blaring sound of the horn. 

Without hesitation, he threw himself over the edge, catching the familiar lines and rails on the way down and then across to the next building, heading closer to the sirens. Foolish, if they were really in action for what was possibly coming, but he figured he was dead in that case no matter what was happening. He smacked the com and settled a block over, crouched on the highest rooftop in the area, peering up at the sky. "Batman? Robin?" When he got no answer in a few seconds, he tapped it again, trying another angle. "Red Robin?"

The line crackled and Tim's voice split across the line. "What the hell is going on?!"

Wincing, Dick turned, looking in every other direction left, his unease increasing at the cloudy night, at the inability to see a damn thing through the haze of ugly grey clouds. "I don't have a damn clue, was hoping you did."

The line cut for a moment and then came back on with a curse from Tim's side. "This isn't... this isn't our realm. I can't get ahold of anyone inside Gotham, do you have eyes on where the alarm is coming from?"

"Block or so south of me... probably. It's loud, but no one is coming out of their homes to look. There's not a damn person out here." Dick stood up and took a running leap for the next building, keeping right on until he was closer to the source. "Where the hell are you that you can hear it?"

The other end of the line was quiet for what felt like too long before Tim's quiet voice came back across the line. "Dick, it's a trap. Don't g-" the line cut abruptly and Dick swore enough to put any sailor to shame before he hit his com again, switching to the second to last he had programmed in. "Red Hood, please fuckin' tell me you're not toasted as shit right now."

"Right behind ya, sweetheart." Dick whipped his head around, breathing out a sigh of relief at the sight of Jason landing on the other end of the rooftop he was on. "Been tracking this since it started, saw your little acrobatic ass making the jumps without a line and figured you might like this." He tossed Dick his spare belt and relief swept through Dick as he snatched it out of the air and clipped it on. "Thanks. Jay, Tim's in trouble."

"Yeah, I heard... I have you all patched into one line, you should try it, you sneaky asshole." Jay knelt beside him, peering toward the area the siren was still blaring from. "I have a sinking suspicion it's a trap we have to get ourselves into if we hope to figure out why Papa Bat and Baby Bat aren't answering us."

In any other situation, Dick would have laughed at the way Jason was referencing Bruce and Damian, but all he felt was dread pooling in his stomach. Swallowing it back, he pushed himself up and squared his shoulders. "Then we'll walk into it."

Jay's hand grasped his shoulder, yanking him down hard. "Are you an idiot? We don't walk into it like that. Sometimes I think you scrambled your brains somewhere along the way; it's like you're smart as hell one minute and a goddamned moron the next." Jason sneered out the last part, his agitation clear as day, even though Dick couldn't see his face at all. 

Heaving out a sigh, Dick muttered, "Then what the hell do we do? There's no indicators except-" he stopped and shook his head a little, confusion clouding his gaze for a moment before he breathed out, "It's... altering... fuck." Reaching up, he closed off the one ear without the com in it, breathing out, "I don't care what you do, don't stop talking to me. I think your helmet's protecting you, but... something's not right."

A few moments passed and then Jason shoved Dick's hands down, pressing an earplug into Dick's ear as he spoke over the com quickly, "Your com's going to compromise me if we leave it on. Only our eyes and hands from here on out, Dickie-bird. Follow my lead or we're gonna get in shit we can't wade through." He yanked the com out and stomped on it, pushing another earplug into Dick's ear.

It took nearly a minute, but finally Dick shook his head a little as the desire to walk straight toward the sound faded away. Looking over at Jay, he gave him a thumb's up, Jay bobbing his head and then signaling him left and then for himself to go right and around, back toward the sound. Dick nodded and headed out, using Jay's grappling gun to make his going much smoother than it had been. 

Soon enough, he started to see people, tons and tons of people gathering around a single building, all of them staring up toward the siren as it blared out its constant tune to them. He couldn't hear it anymore, whatever Jason stocked for earplugs canceling everything but the rushing sound of his own heartbeat and breathing inside his own head. It would have been nearly maddening if he didn't know what was going to happen if he took them out.

He crouched on the roof next to the building, looking over everything, watching to see if anything was happening. When he saw nothing, he waited, sure either Jason would come to him or Jay would play the part of the idiot who took to the roof to kill the siren while Dick kept back to back him up if it all went wrong from there. Sure enough, a minute later, he watched Jason land on the roof, rush to the speaker system for the siren and crouch down next to it. A second later, he could see the tenseness in the other's shoulders, watched him shoot out the speaker and then rush for the edge of the building, leaning over it like he was yelling down below.

Dick took his chances, jumping down and making a run for the crowd, pulling out the earplugs and shoving them into his glove for later inspection. Confusion reigned in the crowd and just over the stunned cries of people, he heard Jason's pleading words, screaming for them to run. For an instant, he looked up, watching the way Jason's movements were frantic before he disappeared back over the edge and Dick's heart seized. He could see it happening all over again, see what he'd watched happen on Bruce's cam all those years ago, see what had nearly killed Bruce and _had_ killed Jason. 

Shoving people in the right direction, he screamed out, "Bomb! Everyone get away from the building! Bomb!" Echoing cries of it urged the crowd into a thundering mass of people running for their lives in every direction except toward the building. Dick picked up the fallen on his way toward the building, shoving them stumbling after the masses until he was climbing the wall, scaling it in a way that - had he given it any thought - was eerily familiar to how Damian scaled walls when he was filled with righteous anger. 

Landing hard on the rooftop, Dick sprinted for Jason, grabbing him and ripping him away from the explosive, shoving him toward the edge of the building _hard_. When Jay came back toward him, Dick reached up, ripped off his helmet and spit out the only words he could grasp for the moment. "Get the fuck out of here, I'm not losing you twice!" He turned on his heel and shoved himself onto his knees, grabbing at the device and giving it a quick once-over before grasping two wires and whispering, "Forgive me should I be wrong," before yanking them hard. The wires snapped and the screen dimmed out, timer slowing down, and the whole display faded out, the liquid in the tubes stopping the insistent bubbling after a few more seconds. 

Hands shaking, Dick pushed himself back onto his feet, taking two shaky steps back and then turning around, finding Jason staring at him, his helmet in hand, a look of horror on his face. He'd never seen Jay look more like he was about to dissolve in his entire life. Taking the three steps to close the distance between them, he pulled Jay hard into his arms, crushing him against him and hissing out, "Not yet, Jay... not yet. We've got three missing people and at least one more siren to deal with. Stay with me until then, come on, please."

He heard the hitching intake of breath and then Jason pulled away, shoving on his helmet and digging something out of his pocket and holding it out to Dick. Taking the proffered gift - finding it to be another com - Dick pushed it into his ear and switched it on. He heard it bubble to life and then the sound of Jason's breath over the line. "Cut it when we get close, replace the plugs, and we'll operate like last time... except... except you take the rooftop, I'll back you." His voice wavered just the slightest at the end and Dick winced as he took the leap out into the air between buildings, sending off the grapping hook and sailing off toward his bikes. "Got it. We'll never make it fast enough this way, I've got my bike." He took three more rooftops and dropped down to the ground, disengaging his security and slipping inside the garage unit.

Jay followed him in and Dick clicked his tongue. "Sorry, Jay-bird, but you're riding bitch tonight." He swung a leg over his bike and settled into the seat, revving the engine and waiting as he felt Jason settle behind him. There was no argument, no backlash for the way he'd phrased it, and in that moment Dick knew just how deep Jason's fear went. He knew just how damaged he was and exactly how. Of all the people to not be suckered in by it, Jason was the last one who should have been having to deal with this particular situation.

The garage door went up and Dick sped out into the night, the door closing behind him as he took to the streets, swerving around people until he was far enough out no one had come back to their homes yet and he just barreled down the streets, avoiding abandoned cars along the way. All the way to Gotham, he kept up his breakneck speed, steering through the streets until he started to hear the sirens again. Stopping the bike, he breathed out, "Still with me, Hood?"

"Cut the damn line before I'm not."

Dick murmured, "I go in, you back me up. When we drop point behind the people, we scout it, I'm right, you're left. No changes in the plan unless absolutely necessary. If you see any of the others and you've got the damn plugs, put them in so they can get back to themselves and fucking help us." He cut the line then, shoving the com into his borrowed utility belt, pulling the plugs from his glove and pushing them back into his ears once he triangulated the direction of the siren. Pulling out, he raced toward the last known direction.

The crowd came into view and he cut the engine, swerving the bike just into an alleyway and taking off at a run toward the nearest building. Up into the skies and across the rooftops he went, quick on his feet and faster in the air until he crouched to scope out the situation. This one was on top of GCPD and the crowd was thicker than it had been in Blüdhaven. His eyes found familiar yellow and he breathed out a quiet sigh of relief to see Damian standing below, staring up at the building, though there was no sign of Bruce or Tim. 

Swallowing down anxiety, he scanned the rooftops and then took the last leap onto the top of the police headquarters, scaling peaks until he found the siren. His eyes caught the timer, the time far too close for comfort and he dropped to his knees, finding the same lines as last time, about to pull them when a familiar gloved hand clamped over his own, stilling it. Looking up into Tim's eyes, he watched him shake his head and he relaxed his hold on the cables. 

Reaching past him, Tim slid his hand between two pipes and pulled a bundle of cabling out, sorting through it quick and pulling four pieces separate, all silver striped lines. Dick felt another presence at his left and he reached back automatically, feeling the cool press of metal against his palm, relief sliding through him to have Damian there. It should have been fear, should have been turmoil that if they didn't do this right, they'd all die. But it wasn't like that at all as he flicked open the blade and reached to press it against all of the lines from behind. His and Tim's eyes met and Tim mouthed out numbers. _Three. Two. One._ And Dick pulled forward with as even of pressure as he could, Tim pressing down at the same time. The lines sliced clean and Dick watched as the timer went brighter, sped up for a few seconds, and then clicked off completely. Different... entirely different than the last one.

Hands shaking slightly, he closed the blade and stood up, flicking his eyes to Damian, gesturing with his head to the siren. Damian took two steps backward, pulled out his grappling gun and shot it right into the damn thing. Tim raced to the edge of the building, watching as people began to look around in confusion, and nearly in tandem the three of them pulled their earplugs out. 

"Did Hood get you?"

Damian touched Dick's arm, holding it tight for a moment as he turned him a little, pointing to the edge of the next building. "He is not in good shape. Batman would not leave him." 

Dick could see the vague outline of Bruce's figure hunched over something on the flat roof of the other building and he sighed softly. "Reference note, keep him away from the bombs if at all possible."

Tim's voice was quiet, tinged with a sadness Dick felt to his very core. "That may be an understatement."

The rooftop felt very heavy for a moment before Dick squared his shoulders. "Batman has him. Right now, we need to get the people dispersed and someone needs to check with the cops to see if any other sirens were reported. I had time to hear it for a bit before it got a hold of me, so maybe someone called it in if there's another one."

"Screw the police, I've got a better idea." Tim held out his hand. "Still got your com on you?"

Dick fished it out and passed it over. "It's Hood's, not mine. Lines are all different."

"No shit." Tim fiddled with it for a moment and then pushed it into his ear. "Red Robin checking in, unsecured line, information needed, seven niner, rover rover echo." 

Dick couched and then gestured down over the edge. "Think you can help GCPD and keep out of their way so they don't try to bring you in?"

"Think, nothing." Damian jumped over the ledge and headed off down the roof, jumping from section to section until he hit the ground, rushing out to the clusters of people, obviously saying something that got them moving hurriedly away from the building, if nothing else. Dick shrank back from the edge and went to disengage Damian's hook from the speaker. Yanking it free, he clipped it to his belt and reached into the twisted metal as carefully as he could, feeling around until he grasped a tiny object and pulled. A small microphone came out, a tiny chip dangling from the end of it, obviously something inserted into the damn speaker system through the gridding on the front. He brought it back to Tim and once he had his attention, he breathed out, "Shielded bag," as quietly as he could to not interrupt the conversation.

Tim dug one out and handed it to him, walking a few paces away to hold the rest of his conversation. Soon enough, he returned, pulling the com out and fiddling with it again before holding it out to Dick. "Should be back on Hood's line now. I'm going to pretend I never knew what line he uses and you're going to pretend you never heard me call in, got it?"

"I do... but a little bat may not." Dick pushed the com back into his ear and spared Tim a glance as he folded up the bag and shoved it into a pouch on Jason's borrowed belt.

"He already knows." 

Their eyes met and Dick studied Tim for a moment, a certain understanding coming over him before he gave a single nod. "For his protection, got it." He gazed out over the rooftops, scanning them for anything unusual. "If you're so worried, change the codes then." He stood up, closing his eyes for a moment before stepping up on the ledge, readying the grappling gun. "I have nothing in mind but his best interests in this, Tim. And you won't find me anywhere near him unless I'm needed there anymore. I can't do anything else but promise you what I already did. The rest is on you to believe me... or not."

He shot the hook out and spared Tim one last glance. "I may be the bad guy here, but I'm not the only player on the board." With that, he stepped off the ledge and activated the line, swinging away into the darkness, knowing everyone would be taken care of and confident he wasn't needed inside of Gotham any further tonight.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: Various by Tool

Dick stood in the hallway outside of Bruce's room, his hands shoved deep inside his pockets as he stared worriedly at the door. Bruce had taken Jason away from the scene before any of them could get the crowd properly dispersed and from what anyone could glean, Jason and Bruce were both inside the bedroom and had been for nearly two hours. Tim sat on the floor across the hallway from where Dick stood, his legs pulled up and his arms creating a pillow for him to rest his head on. Tim was still suited, while Dick had opted to raid his old bedroom for an outfit alternative, an old pair of jeans and a raggedy band t-shirt his ensemble now.

Damian had skulked off down to the cave to fill out reports for Bruce, though he'd cast Dick a hopeful look that hadn't amounted to Dick doing a damn thing given what he'd told Tim earlier. Tim had glowered at him for near on a minute before finally looking away and Dick had stood there, feeling ashamed and more than a little upset. He knew Tim had his reasons for thinking the worst, but it hurt him that he obviously hadn't even tried to talk to Damian about it or he'd have gotten some answers about Dick's lack of doing anything technically wrong. But now was not the time to discuss such things or even for him to be self-centered enough to focus on them, given Jason's current plight.

Leaning against the wall, Dick looked down at his feet, pursing his lips and huffing out a sigh. A moment later Bruce's bedroom door opened and before he could get a single word out, Bruce held up a hand and shook his head, gesturing them all down the hallway. Tim had woken up the instant the door opened and climbed to his feet as soon as Bruce gestured them out.

Once they were all downstairs and into the study, Bruce closed the door and went to sit on his favorite chair, the one he always took when given the chance. Dick moved to close the curtains, given both Tim and Bruce were still very much suited up, Bruce only lacking his cowl, Tim not having even bothered to remove his. 

"He'll be okay... whatever happened out there... he'll be fine probably by tomorrow." Bruce's voice was quiet, filled with an edge that Dick wasn't used to hearing come from Bruce. Denial... it was flat out denial of what really happened.

Stunned, Dick stood there for a long moment, about to open his mouth when Tim beat him to it, his voice holding a certain amount of anguish as he spoke. "You know what caused it. And you know he won't be better tomorrow morning or ever. He'll be over the episode, but that's it. That's how it works... that how PTSD works, Bruce."

For the first time in years, Dick watched as Bruce started to come apart at the seams, right in front of both of them. His demeanor cracked first, the careful façade he placed up in front of every single person in his life splitting open to reveal the vulnerable man beneath. He heard the intakes of breath become quicker, watched Bruce's eyes widen a fraction and he reached out, taking Tim's arm and steering him toward the cave, hissing out, "Don't protest, don't look back, just keep going. Trust me."

They entered behind the clock and Dick slid it shut behind them, tugging Tim halfway down the stairs before he paused to speak to him again. "I intervened in that once. Only once. Bruce is a rock until he hits too much to deal with and then he's..." Dick shrugged helplessly, "something else. There's no stopping or helping it. He just has to get it out and it's best to be out of the way."

Tim was silent for a moment before giving Dick a small nod and pulling his arm away, advancing down the stairs. Dick followed behind him, stepping down into the cave and making a beeline for Damian, not wanting him to see his father like that. "Dami..." he watched the way Damian's head jerked up, the faintest hint of how he felt on his features for a split second before it disappeared. "Don't go upstairs for a while. Bruce needs a while to ah..."

"I am familiar with the times to avoid him." Damian looked back at the screens as he continued typing. Dick watched the words, seeing Damian was mostly done with his report and he took a seat next to him, taking the other keyboard and pulling up another file, entering in his and Jason's report with both detail and efficiency, not too long, not missing anything important. He and Damian finished about the same time, Dick saving everything and then standing up. He quietly watched Damian lock the system back up, his gaze perhaps more openly fond than he meant it to be.

When he turned around, he found Tim leaning against the pillar behind them, his arms crossed and a pissed off look on his face. He gave him a small, disarming smile and a shrug. "Needed to enter the report." He said it in a way that clearly told how much he meant every word he said and how careful he'd been to not say a single thing to Damian that he didn't need to, no matter how much it hurt him not to.

Tim flicked his eyes to Damian and Dick hedged past them, making his way to the small alcove containing things he was still allowed to borrow or have from Bruce. He grabbed a few things he was out of, an anti-toxin, some gauze padding, and a couple new gadgets he'd not seen on the shelf before. A presence appeared at his left shoulder and he couldn't help but breathe out, "Damian," in a nearly relieved manner. Turning slightly, he gave him a soft smile as he tucked his newfound prizes into his pocket. 

"You are still avoiding me." Damian kept his voice low, pitched just loud enough for Dick to hear, but no one else, not even the probably lurking Tim. 

It was the obvious, put into voice, and Dick couldn't deny it at all. After all, he was very much avoiding being alone with him or even around him very often and it had been hopeless to think Damian wouldn't notice.

"You no longer come for dinner or for movie nights and you are not answering my messages." Damian's voice turned more and more strained as he spoke. "I..." he shook his head, "there are things you are necessary for and you have not been there as you had said you would be."

The unspoken words were a plea Dick couldn't ignore if he tried. The cry for help so obvious that, in that moment, Dick didn't care if Tim beat the shit out of him later for it, he knew what he needed to do. Stepping in closer to Damian, he pulled him against his body, wrapping his arms around him and letting Damian push his face against his shoulder. He leaned down to press his lips nearly against Damian's ear before offering his words. "There are things that happened that you don't know about, things I told you I was in the wrong about and I really was. I'm doing my best to right my wrongs, but some things are not changeable... some things are unwavering and when I cannot change them, others won't understand." He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "I'll answer your texts, but be aware everything going to me is being closely observed. Say nothing you don't want everyone around you knowing when you're in contact with me. I haven't left you to deal with it all alone... I promise."

Letting Damian go, it took a moment before he disengaged and stepped back from Dick. He gave a single nod and turned toward the rack, picking up something else and shoving it at Dick. "You're probably out of these, you always are."

Dick took the package, giving it an odd look before nodding. "Yeah, I am." He pushed the package under his arm and picked up a new com, the last one on the shelf. Turning away, he rounded the corner, finding Tim giving him a very pissed off look. Damian walked straight past them, completely ignoring Tim's presence, and for that Dick was grateful. He waited a moment and then took two steps into Tim's zone, muttering out, "I've done nothing wrong, so you can stop giving me that look. I'm not about to take the rap for things I haven't done."

Tim opened his mouth and Dick shook his head. "Not listening to it. You and I... we got along so well before this and now you're treating me like a criminal without the information to back it up. Talk to him if you don't believe the things I'm telling you. Ask him anything you want, I give you my word I've not told him to not tell you a thing, so he's your open book of information on what Dick Grayson has and has not done to - or with - him. Because, honestly, I'd rather you stop looking at me that way. How we were in the field... that's how I'm used to being with you, Tim." He gave him a pleading look and then turned away. "Once you've gotten the facts, believe what you want. But you keep treating me like this, I'm going to start treating you the same way right back, and you're not gonna like that."

Leaving it at that, Dick made fast work of getting to his bike, dumping things into the chamber under the seat, and mounting the bike, pulling on the helmet that had been left on the handlebars for him. "Someone let me know how Bruce and Jay are later, will ya?" With that, he was gone faster than even he had thought possible, taking every curve of the exit from the cave far faster than he'd ever dared, anger flaring hot inside of him. Something was about to come to a head and someone was about to pop. And he was helpless to do a damn thing except what he just had. All he could do was wait it out and hope... hope like hell.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last Christmas gift before it becomes the 26th. Here's a second chapter for today.  
> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: Various by Thirty Seconds to Mars

_I have failed, Grayson._

The text came in late enough that Dick was actually curled up on his couch in his apartment rather than out on patrol in Blüdhaven. Damian's name came up on the screen and Dick picked up the phone, diligently ignoring the prior texts in an effort to not make himself feel absolutely horrible for ignoring his Robin's pleas for help from the past few weeks. Now, though, after the talk he'd had, he had no reason to ignore his texts, no reason not to respond any longer. Let Tim beat him to a pulp, Damian needed him and that was what should have mattered more to start with.

The words cut into Dick in a way he couldn't have fully explained if he'd tried. The use of Grayson instead of Dick, instead of nothing at all, was almost impossibly _official_ coming from Damian. And he knew it was because he'd told the other he was being monitored. Or, rather, that Dick was while he was talking to him. Part of him wondered if he'd put two and two together yet on what his and Tim's argument had been about, but he didn't dare bring it up. For that matter, he didn't dare mention what Damian had done in any sort of blatant terms either.

_In what way?_

Dick reached for the remote, killing the TV show he'd been watching and picked up his glass of water instead, nursing it as he waited on the reply. He didn't have to wait long.

_Father says I have gone too far again. I believe it was deserved._

The vagueness killed Dick, but leaving a text trail as to who they were wouldn't do any of them any good and they'd always diligently avoided it, alluding to the truth instead of being blatant about it. 

_How far was it on the too far scale? My scale, not B's._

_A three._

So he'd broken something vital on the person, possibly hospitalized them, but nothing permanent to the point of no return. In Dick's world, some people deserved that sort of thing. Some people were scum and had done things to bring that sort of thing upon themselves. In Bruce's world, it was allowable... until Damian did it. It drove the poor kid nuts and it had begun to work its way under Dick's skin as well when Damian got worked up over it, again and again. He could still point part of the blame back to the Owls, to an incident that had left Bruce believing Damian had killed a man when it really hadn't been him at all, and that killed him at times, to know Bruce was being that short sighted when it came to Damian.

_Just... lay off for a while. It'll blow over, I promise._

_I dislike being treated like a three year old on a leash._

Dick snorted softly. Damian's version of a three year old and anyone else's were two entirely different things. He pursed his lips to suppress a chuckle.

_It really wasn't that much better for any of us._

He didn't get a reply for long enough that Dick settled the phone down on his thigh and leaned back, closing his eyes for a few minutes. He startled a little when the phone went off again. 

_Grayson, I request your presence for the party. It will be on the set day and at 6:00pm, sharp. Please let Todd know as well._

Dick gave the phone a slightly pained look, knowing Tim probably still didn't want him there, even for Damian's birthday. But if there was one thing he didn't want to do, it was disappoint Damian on a day he'd almost never taken seriously, at least not until the past few years. Or, rather, after the year Dick made a big deal out of it when he was with Damian, the younger as his Robin during that year. A frown pulled at the corners of his lips as he breathed out a pained sort of whistle through his teeth. So much for staying away then.

_I will attend and I will let Jay know._

He put the phone aside and stood up, heading toward his back door. Thankfully, it was Jason's drop night and it was close enough to time, the other was probably lurking somewhere in the darkness outside his home. Stepping out onto the balcony, Dick pulled the blanket he'd had over his shoulders since he'd come back from patrol tighter around himself. The cold tonight was nearly biting and he suppressed a shiver at the very insistence of it.

Jay's shadow dropped onto the porch and Dick smiled out into the darkness. "Nice of you to drop in."

"What's got you in a good mood, Dickie-bird, hmm? Finally get laid again or something?" Jason nearly flopped into Dick's single chair on the balcony, the metal protesting the abrupt weight.

"No." Dick turned and leaned his back against the rail, studying Jason for a moment before openly admitting something he had actually intended to play close to the chest. "Finally talked to Damian after me and Tim had it out. Not... about that or anything. But," he shrugged, gazing into his apartment for a moment before murmuring, "it feels good to be there for him again. He really needed me and I wasn't around for him."

"And it was crushing you." Jason sighed, kicking his feet up on the railing and leaning back, his arms pillowed behind his head. "That was obvious."

"The reason was lost on some people."

"Or they wanted to remain blind to it. You realize it shows your feelings like a damn neon sign, right?"

Dick shrugged, finally flicking his eyes over to meet Jason's, only to find the damn mask in the way. He looked away again, pursing his lips. "It's not like a light switch, Jay. I can't just turn it off. And even if I could, I wouldn't."

Jason sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Dangerous territory, birdie. I mean, I could have sworn it'd be B who'd rip you apart on this one, but so far it looks like Timmy's got the upper hand on that one."

Dick was silent for a minute and then huffed out a quiet laugh, no amount of humor in the sound at all. "You know, it could all be solved if someone would just fucking ask Damian straight-out what's been done and what hasn't. I mean, I stepped wrong once, but not wrong to the degree someone needs to put me down for it, you know?"

"I know... but I'm not supposed to know and you're not supposed to know I know... and it's a big 'ol circus." Dick could almost hear the grin in Jason's voice before he ever spoke again, hearing the next part coming a million miles away. "But you're supposed to be our resident circus specialist, aren't you, acro-bird? So how about playing ringmaster for a while."

"Not my circus, not my tent, not even my goddamned show. I mean, shit, I'm not even sure I was invited." Dick made a face at the ground and then brightened a bit. "Oh, speaking of invited. Damian wants you to know his birthday is a fully invited event and your name is on an invite. Day of, six at night. He said 'sharp', so my assumption is that part was specified by Alfred."

"Kid actually wants me there?"

"So he said. I tend to take his word on things. Hasn't led me wrong yet."

Jason was silent for a while before muttering, "Do you want your damn report or are we gonna shoot the shit all night?"

"Look at you, invite you to one thing and you turn into a crab-ass for me. See how many parties a dead guy gets invited to? Precisely six a year, that's what." It took a moment, but Jason started to laugh and Dick relaxed against the railing, smirking at the ground. If he could still make him laugh, at least they'd be okay in the end. 

"Ass..." Jason snorted. "Report. Oddly, exactly the same as last week. Same counts, different locations. If we hit three weeks in a row, I'm not calling it coincidence anymore and it's time to be afraid for the end is here." He stood up then, invading Dick's private space for a moment, barely breathing out his next words. "Little D doesn't know about our info drops, but he wanted you to invite me because I have information for you. He says little bird's been accessing his files and at least some on B's server that he knows of. If you ask me, our birdie usually covers his tracks so that no one knows he's been in or out of anywhere, so he's leaving breadcrumbs on purpose... or it's not actually him doing it. Something to chew on. Oh... and he says he left a gift in the package he made you take you might want to know about."

Jason took a step back and then muttered, "You and your damn notes. Done writing yet, Dickie? I'm out." He clapped him on the shoulder and then pulled away, jumping up on the railing and then stepping out into the night.

Dick stood there for a moment, confusion pinning him to the spot. Jay was right about one thing. If it was Tim doing the looking, it had to be on purpose he wasn't hiding it or... it wasn't him. And for Damian to have gone to such great lengths to get him to talk to Jason, he knew it had to be relevant to the things surrounding their current predicament. Swallowing thickly, Dick stepped back inside and went to get suited back up. 

Ten minutes found him racing through the newly pouring rain toward his garage. Fifteen found him dripping water across his floor as he headed right to where he'd dumped all the things he'd taken from his shelf at the cave. He picked up the package Damian had indicated he should take with him, having completely forgotten about it after he'd driven around angry as all hell for nearly two hours after leaving the cave that night. Opening it, he spilled out a bunch of warmer packets. He poked around at them until one felt different and he carefully opened it. Inside, he found a small device, one he knew quite well. It was a shielding unit, one that turned off all incoming or outgoing signals in the small radius of it and was unusually good at keeping conversations private. It had to be active to be useful, but it was nearly untraceable and utterly useful... and Damian was obviously trying to tell him he was being listened to. All in the same breath he'd told Damian that he was. _That_ was his Robin, always on the same page.

He slid it into his belt for the moment, setting against the counter and just contemplating the room. Bruce had never been here, only Damian and Jay. Even Tim had never had reason, so unless one of them was planting things, there was probably no way he was being recorded in here unless he'd been blind enough to have something slipped in like what Damian had just given him. Either way, if he had to discuss things again, he had a way that would ensure it was private.

Now he just had to find out what it was that had been accessed, be more discrete about it than whoever had been accessing them, and he'd know how quickly he was going to be in utter shit for it. That pit of dread came back into his stomach, once again giving him the impression of storm clouds rolling in, bitter and oppressive... and utterly unstoppable. If Damian had noticed... Bruce would notice. That was, if it hadn't _been_ Bruce. He winced at the idea, just hoping against hope that he'd bother to see the other interactions, see what Dick was claiming and believe him in some small way.

As he headed back out into the stormy night, he couldn't chase off the feeling that Damian's birthday wasn't going to be nearly as pleasant as any of them wanted it to be.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: Various by Black Veil Brides

The taste of mint clung to Dick's tongue, the insides of his cheeks faintly tingling with the essence of the homemade peppermint bark that topped Damian's birthday cake. Alfred had outdone himself this time, creating a perfection of mint and chocolate atop fluffy white cake with a cream center. They all sat around the table, slowly eating the delicious dessert, mostly not talking, which was always a sure sign of a great meal. There'd been corn and cheese tamales, beans, and a wonderful rice dish that Dick knew didn't usually get served with this sort of meal, but had complimented it just the same. Everyone - including Damian - had been allowed a small goblet of some dessert wine Alfred insisted went so well with the cake that he'd be heartbroken if everyone couldn't try it, and Bruce had conceded with little argument.

Damian, though, still hadn't touched the stuff. Even as Dick watched him, Damian sat there, taking delicate little bites of the cake, every once in a while picking up a piece of the peppermint bark to break off a piece of it and pop it into his mouth. He looked calmer than Dick had felt like he'd expected him to. Their conversations had become more frequent, hinted at things that Dick was wholly afraid of manifesting and in some small way, he'd thought he would see it all written across the lines of Damian's face the moment he finally saw him again.

But everything had been very calm in the manor tonight. It felt as if the very air of the room was waiting on something to happen and Dick could pick up on the foreboding manner of it enough that it made him uncomfortable. He took another bite of his own cake, polishing it off and then swallowing down the rest of the wine, settling the glass back on the table. They'd all given Damian gifts, but he had insisted he wanted to open them later, without a full audience of people watching him do it, and Dick could only assume it had a lot to do with the little fits of nerves he knew Dami had at times. Perhaps being watched so diligently, for so long, would set it off, he wasn't sure, but they had all respected the choice, not pushing in the least, something Dick was grateful for. 

Alfred finished off his cake and stood, starting to gather dishes, distracting Dick from anything other than what Alfred was doing. He reached for his own plate as Alfred came closer, his eyes falling on his glass, which was now halfway full again. He flicked his eyes across the table to Damian, finding him watching with a little tiny smile on his lips, mostly hidden behind his fork for the moment.

Taking the glass, Dick swallowed down the rest of the contents and then passed both items off to Alfred a moment later, settling his forearms on the table, looking around at the others. Jay sat to his left, silent and a bit on the tense side of things, though he always tended to be when they were around the manor together. Dick shifted his leg, pressing his knee against Jason's thigh, catching his eye and quirking his lips up into a smile before he looked away, scanning over Bruce and Barbara, the two of them focused on their food and nothing else for the time being. Tim sat next to Damian, perhaps closer than was necessary and Dick thought, perhaps, he'd done it to keep Dick from sitting next to Damian in the first place. Not that it mattered much, he usually took the seat across from him anyway.

A mug of coffee was settled in front of him and Dick picked it up, murmuring his thanks to Alfred before blowing on it until he was satisfied it would be cool enough to drink from. He was halfway through the mug when Barbara stood to excuse herself, explaining about prior plans. Everyone gave her a warm parting, Dick lifting a hand to wave before he looked back across the table. Surprise filtered through him as he took in the sincerely pinched look on Damian's face and he cocked his head just the slightest, meeting his eyes, trying to figure out what was going on.

Damian's gaze flicked to Bruce for a moment and then back to Dick and he gave a little tiny shake of his head, his jaw working as if he were grinding his teeth together. Dick looked down at the table, lifting his cup to his lips and taking another drink from it. A few more minutes found Jason leaving as well, Dick trailing after him to the door. He stopped a few paces back from the coat rack, watching Jay pull on his jacket and zip it up. Pushing his hands into his pockets, Dick found the little device and depressed it before he breathed out a quiet, "Almost feel like he's warning me to not talk to B... Do you think...?" he trailed off, shrugging when Jason looked up at him.

Jay gave him a slightly alarmed look and Dick pulled out his hand just enough to show the little disk before pushing it back into his pocket. Jason sighed, reaching into his pockets for his gloves, tugging them on. His voice was barely audible when he spoke. "Then maybe you should leave with me, Dickie-bird. Wouldn't want you in any trouble, after all."

Dick shook his head, breathing out, "Maybe... but I ju-" Footsteps behind him stopped him from talking any further. He pushed the button again and gave a single shake of his head before plastering on a grin. "So whadda ya say, Jay-bird? Should we give it a go?"

An answering smile flitted over Jason's lips as he clapped a hand on Dick's shoulder. "We'll work on the mods next week. Your bike and mine, okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Thursday maybe?"

"Works for me." Jason picked up his helmet off the hall table and opened the front door. "Sure you didn't want to patrol with me tonight? Just for the hell of old time's sake?"

"Still thinking on it... maybe part of it?" Dick finally glanced back over his shoulder, finding Bruce standing there, a carefully neutral expression on his face that had Dick more than a little worried. "Say... six?" It gave him about twenty minutes before he'd need to leave, a good excuse to get the hell out of dodge if he needed to. And since it wasn't an actual plan, he wouldn't disappoint Jason if he didn't leave by then.

"Sure thing." Jason stepped out onto the porch. "Night, Bruce."

"Goodnight, Jason." Bruce's voice was strained in a way that had Dick wincing faintly.

Dick moved to skirt past Bruce, only to have Bruce's voice stop him short. "We need to talk. Now." Dick's back was already to Bruce and he found himself closing his eyes, steeling himself against whatever this was, whatever was coming down the pipes toward him. He gave a nod. "Certainly." They turned together, heading into the parlor, Bruce moving to stand in front of the fireplace, facing it, his hands behind his back, one wrist holding the other. It was a pose that tended to mean Bruce was far more upset than he was letting on, which didn't bode well given he was already letting his stern voice leak out.

Dick took up a position next to the wall beside the fireplace, one hand on the bricks, the other casually in his pocket. "Got another case for me?" He knew he didn't, could feel it on the air that this was the hell he'd been waiting to have break free for months now. His heart was clenched up tight in his chest, air faintly hard to pull into his lungs as he waited on the answer, but he didn't show an ounce of it outwardly.

"Is there anything you'd like to tell me?"

Dick almost choked on his next intake of air. It'd been years since Bruce had asked him those kinds of questions. Back when he'd snuck out a few times when he'd first arrived or the one time he'd gone off to try to rid the planet of Zucco. Swallowing hard against the sudden lump in his throat, he debated his answer before finally offering, "I've been leaving a few things off the reports I've been giving you from Jay." It was an off-chance, a futile hope that perhaps Bruce had discovered the last body Jason had ditched into the river and figured it out. A camera he'd missed or something else. 

Bruce's voice was a deep rumble, his anger showing through as he forced out his words. "I am aware. That is not the topic of discussion here." Dick waited him out, knowing better than to ask him what he was talking about, just giving it a minute. "What are your intentions with my son?"

There it was, the thing Dick didn't want to have to answer to, didn't want to have to figure out fully for himself even. But there wasn't a second of hesitation before he was letting words tumble out of his mouth. "To be there for him when he needs it. To ease his walk down the path he has chosen."

"I am not discussing the more professional level of things and I think you're aware of that."

Dick gazed down into the flickering flames of the fire, watching it lick at the logs as it did its best to consume them. "I care deeply about him. I'd do anything to protect him, even if it meant giving my own life." He hesitated for a moment before tacking on, "I'm pretty sure the feeling is mutual on that one."

"I'm not asking you about him, only about yourself, Dick." The use of his name caught him, told him he was about to walk headlong into something he'd never escape but that he also didn't have a choice in the matter at this point. "I'd like for you to not lie to me."

Dick shifted his stance, feeling the faint tingle that told him to run while he still could, that told him everything was about to go to shit, but he ignored it in favor of facing up to this situation... a moment of his own making. "I love him." He delivered the three words with utter confidence, without a single hint of remorse or indecision. 

A second later, Dick was pinned against the wall, Bruce's hand on his throat, fingers squeezing oh-so-carefully against all the right places that if a modicum more pressure were to be applied, Dick's esophagus would be crushed. He rasped in breath after breath, one hand coming to hold onto Bruce's forearm, the other holding tight onto the fireplace still. "Love makes us do stupid things, Dick." Bruce spit the words out at him, his fingers tightening enough to make Dick's eyes water, his grip on Bruce's arm tightening in response to the fear of having his windpipe crushed. 

"But love doesn't make us do _illegal_ things," his hot breath tickled against Dick's ear as he hissed out the rest of his words, every single one of them bitter and biting. "It doesn't make you into an ugly person, into the filth we hunt down in the night. Love does not do that. Hatred does. Anger does. Things that doctors can tick off of little boxes before they tie you up in an ugly white jacket and lose you in their system forever do. But not love, Dick. Never love. And you do _not_ love my son." His hand tightened to the point that Dick could no longer breathe, to the point that he felt every single ounce of his body want to fight back, to break Bruce if he had to in order to get away. But the last little rational piece of his mind told him if he did, he'd regret it, he'd never leave this room if he did. His brain wouldn't even process the information he was being given completely, instead focusing only on the idea of living through whatever this was.

Bruce pulled him away from the wall and then slammed him hard back against it again, shoving him up onto his tiptoes, holding him there with one powerful arm. Anger burned in his eyes as he stared into Dick's own. Tears formed and then spilled over, running down Dick's cheeks as he fought to gain any ounce of breath through the way Bruce was holding him. He could feel his body starting to shut down the less vital parts, conserving in hopes he'd get oxygen soon. A moment later, he was crashing into the old globe he'd always loved, feeling it crush beneath his weight. He sucked in air, his hands moving to claw at his shirt, pulling it away from his throat as if it were causing the issue as shoved himself into a crouching position, alert enough, but knowing if he stood up, he was done for.

"Get out of my house... out of our lives." Bruce's voice was like ice now, the anger sealed up inside, tamped down on in a way Dick had only heard from him one other time in his life. It had been how he'd spoken to Joker after he'd killed Jason. Fresh tears spilled down Dick's cheeks, these born of anguish rather than pain or fear. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, reaching to wipe away the betraying liquid with the back of his hand. "If I ever see you again, I will kill you for what you have done." There was an edge to Bruce's words that left Dick feeling cold inside. "I should do it now... should at the very least drag you to GCPD with a note pinned to your chest proclaiming what you've done to him. My own weakness is the only reason you are still drawing breath, Grayson." The change in his name nearly broke Dick's heart. He stared at Bruce's back, at the broad shoulders he'd learned would protect him without question over the years, now turned into a threat before his very eyes. He slowly stood, watching Bruce for another moment before turning away, slowly making his way to the door.

"You will leave Gotham and you will leave Blüdhaven. The further away, the longer your life will be." _Never come back._ The unspoken words were worse than the ones already out there on the air, crushing Dick even more. 

He touched the doorframe, holding onto it as his head did its best to get back in the game. "I haven't hurt him... I haven't and I won't. I'll leave only to keep you from your own demons, because I love you just as much. I always have. But I need you to know, whatever it is you think I've done to your son, I haven't."

A picture frame crashed into the wall next to Dick's head, though he didn't flinch at all as the glass shattered and the frame clattered to the floor. "Get out!"

Dick lifted his head, squared his shoulders, and stepped out of the parlor. He rounded the corner, finding Tim standing there, watching him, his expression unreadable. Dick regarded him for a moment before stepping past him. "Seems you'll get your ending after all, Tim. Just remember something for me... remember I told you what I did and didn't do and that every word of it was the truth. Remember that I don't care if it was you or if it was Bruce who was snooping around on this... but also remember that you're on your last chance with me before I treat you the same way you've been treating me. With suspicion and disbelief, with an ear that doesn't want to hear the truth. And more than all of that, you need to realize that his wellbeing rests on you now. And you damn well better step up to it."

Dick let his jaw clench as he walked down the hallway, back into the entryway and then up the staircase to the second floor. Once inside of his old room, he dug out a single bag from the closet, opening the one drawer that still held some of his things. Stuffing everything into the bag, he knelt and pried up a floorboard beneath the front edge of the dresser, removing a few things he'd left there years and years before, placing them carefully into his bag before replacing the board.

Standing up, he shouldered the bag and offered a quiet, "Robin..." because he couldn't think of him as anything else right then or it would crush him to pieces right in front of the kid. Turning, he stepped closer to him, reaching out and gently touching his shoulder, watching him quietly for a moment. "I have to go... and I can't come back."

"I know." Damian's voice was strong, but Dick could hear the slight waver he held back just beneath the words.

"I wouldn't if I didn't have to... I need you to know that."

Damian's eyes stared hard up into Dick's own, bright with emotion. "I know."

Dick moved to unfasten his watch, sliding it off of his wrist and reaching for Damian's hand, pressing it against his palm and leaning in to whisper into his ear. "This is my promise to you." His free hand slid into his pocket, pressing the little disk there again. "Once you are eighteen the choice of where you are is up to you. If you still need me in your life, then find me. This was my grandfather's... I've never let it go and I still haven't." Stepping back, he pushed the disk again and gave Damian a sad little smile. "You'll always be my Robin..."

Turning away, Dick made it all the way to the door before Damian's soft words floated to him. "And you'll always be my Batman."

Dick's heart clenched hard in his chest and he shifted the bag on his shoulder as he made his way down the hallway. Tim stood on the landing, watching him, his expression still just as unreadable as it had been before and Dick moved past him without comment this time. Bruce stood at the foot of the stairs, anger still in his gaze, his hand clenched at his side as Dick continued toward the door.

He paused long enough to get his jacket and scarf and stepped outside. Alfred stood next to his bike, holding an umbrella over the seat, which had been cleaned off of the freshly falling snow. He pulled on his jacket and tucked his scarf in, slinging the bag back over his body, this time the strap over his chest. Settling onto the bike seat, Dick pulled a small, folded piece of paper out of his pocket, sliding it into Alfred's hand as he pulled him in for a small hug. "You've been the world to me and no matter what you hear about me, please consider that there's two sides to every story... and this one has three. If Damian ever crosses that line, I need you to tell me. That will be the only way to contact me, the only way to find me."

Pulling back, Dick started his bike and pulled his helmet on. He flipped down the visor and pulled out with a spray of gravel, darting off into the snowy night as if the devil himself were hot on his heels. And maybe... just maybe... he was.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: Various by Tool / A Perfect Circle / System of a Down / Rage Against the Machine

Dick stood just outside the doors of his garage, hands clasped behind his back. He wasn't suited up, didn't see the need for it given he was on the way out of town. Inside, he'd collected everything to do with Nightwing; all of his gadgets, his files, and his relative arsenal and put them here. The wind picked up even more, bringing icy cold in from over the water only a few blocks away. He pushed his hands deep into his hoodie pockets, wishing like hell he had something more than this to shield him for the moment, at least a better jacket. Just inside the door were two bags, the only two he was leaving Blüdhaven with. 

The shadows across the street shifted and Dick watched as Red Hood stepped off the sidewalk, crossing the street toward him. He couldn't see past the mask and in that moment, he honestly wasn't sure if he wanted to. He'd called Jason to come and get him, told him he'd be here and not at his apartment, telling him he'd explain once he was there and not across the phone.

Dick turned and activated the pad, thumbing into it and then stepping aside. "Thumbprint, Jay..." There was a second's hesitation and then Jason pulled off his glove, reaching to press his thumb onto the heat-sensitive pad. It beeped and Dick murmured, "Now with your glove on." Jason repeated the process and it registered that as well before announcing _Access Granted: Red Hood_ and the locks clicked open. 

They stepped inside and Dick waited until the door closed behind them before he reached to pick up one of his two shoulder bags. "Bruce barely kept himself from killing me. I'm to leave and never come back." His voice came out oddly matter-of-fact, his tone neutral enough he thought for a moment, he sounded rather like Bruce himself. He turned to look at Jay, finding him without his mask on, their eyes meeting and holding as silence became the reigning factor between them. The moments extended, stretching out before them until Dick was almost certain Jason was about to find his way onto a definite side in this whole ordeal and it was one Dick would regret very quickly.

But the next words from Jason's mouth surprised him, leaving him with a faint feeling of shock as he regarded probably the only other person on the planet he now knew - without a doubt - he could trust with his life and with every single secret he'd ever held. "I trust you, Dick." Jason pushed his free hand into his jacket pocket, shrugging slightly. "You say you didn't touch him and I believe you. You say you fucked up... and Damian... well, he tells me he's the one who fucked up, not you. But I know how you shoulder blame for things, you always have." His stance shifted slightly, his eyes softening as he regarded Dick. "And you're still doing the right thing, leaving to save Bruce from himself, leaving to save Damian from you... and with no regard for your own feelings in all of this. Because when you tell me you love him, I know you do. Dickie-bird... you never had to tell me that for me to know it. And I just don't see how anyone else can miss it. Since the moment he's entered your life, he's become first on the list; first for you to protect, first for you to train, first for you to take under your wing."

Jason reached to place his helmet on the table to the side of him, letting his other hand slide into his jacket pocket instead. "And you're first on his. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise and don't you dare think leaving will change that." Jason pulled his hand free of his jacket and held out a small thumb drive to Dick. "Don't look at it until you're away from here, until you're gone. He gave this to me two weeks ago... as a contingency plan for you."

Dick reached out, taking the small drive and tucking it away into his pants pocket, swallowing hard. "Jay..." The look on Jason's face cut him off and Dick just let his shoulders fall, nodding his head. "Take me to the train station, will ya?" It didn't matter really, that he wouldn't say more, that Jason didn't want him to. He knew his Jay-bird knew everything he needed to about how Dick felt and probably knew nearly what words he'd use to say them. Stepping toward him, he pulled Jason into a brief hug, one hand on the back of his neck, the other resting on the small of his back. "I promise you... I won't let this change who I am or what I stand for. I may have to give up being Nightwing... even give up being Dick Grayson, but I'll be damned if I'm giving up the person I've become these past few years." He took a step back, hand sliding to Jason's shoulder as he gave him a weak smile. "If you need me... if it's a situation you can't get out of without me, ask Alfred. He's the only person with a way to contact me once I get where I'm going. From the moment I hit that platform tonight, I'm off the grid, a figment of everyone's imaginations. And you damn well know I've always been good at that role."

Jason turned away, pulling on his mask and then quietly offering up a few words of his own. "I hope you can find peace, Dickie-bird. It's been a hell of a damn ride and this life... it eats you up inside. Be the one of us to escape it, be the one who can walk away and never look back with anything but fondness and never regret." He hit the button to open the door and stepped outside into the beginnings of another rain storm.

Dick closed the door behind himself, pulling the other bag onto his shoulder and letting himself snort out a quiet laugh. If he'd been a bit more down, a bit more blinded by the dredges of this city or his current circumstances, he'd surely have thought of the rain as Blüdhaven's goodbye, tears from the sky or some such utter bullshit. Pulling his hood tighter, he darted off across the street after Jason, his first steps toward a new life. One he could only hope were filled with things that made this worth it, that made leaving the only person he could ever remember loving in so many ways behind.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: Various by Disturbed

Dick stood alone on the platform, watching the train pull in. It was the last one of the night and he was the only passenger to be picked up at this stop. The attendant had looked at him like he was mad for even trying to leave Blüdhaven at this time of the night or with the powerful storm coming in from the direction the train was heading toward. But it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter. His money was a precious commodity now, something he had to keep close to himself now and with all of his trust fund already evaporated on the failure to bring back Amusement Mile he only had his earnings from recent times to fall back on.

The train pulled in, bringing with it a rain of soot and the acrid stench of burning coal. He pulled his bags closer, fishing his ticket out of his hoodie as he stepped up to the passenger loading line, waiting until the train pulled to a stop. Two people got off and the ticket taker perched on the top of the steps, reaching for his ticket when he approached. Handing it over, he climbed up the stairs and took it back as they wished him a good ride. Sighing, he pushed into the train and headed toward the back cars.

He'd only just settled in a mostly empty car - in the most shadowed corner - when the train pulled out of the station, a shrill whistle letting everyone know it was leaving. He propped his feet up on the seat in front of him and pulled out his laptop, plugging in his headphones and popping one of the buds into his ear, letting the other dangle free over his shoulder. He reached under the laptop and slid the switch that popped out his current hard drive. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out the anti-static bag containing the drive he always kept stocked only with a base operating system, a drive that had never touched his network or Bruce's, and swapped out the drives, sliding the fresh one into his laptop and pressing the power button.

Fishing out the thumb drive Jason had given him from his pocket, he held onto it as the computer booted up, only inserting it once it was fully up and operational. He made sure the wireless switch was disabled and sat back, waiting while the device installed. Once it had, he opened the file explorer and selected the only file on it. The movie viewer launched and a moment later his screen was filled with the view of a field Dick was fairly certain he recognized from the barn off in the distance. Damian had gone to great lengths to make sure he was away from Gotham and Blüdhaven when he'd recorded this; that much was clear, especially if it was where Dick thought it was. A certain amount of fondness filled him at the idea that he'd obviously taught the kid very well if he was smart enough to know just how much was being watched between his systems and Bruce's own.

Damian appeared in the frame shortly after, crouching in front of the camera. "I do not have long to record this. I wish I did, but father will realize I have gone off-grid soon and I do not want the questions." Damian looked beyond the camera somewhere for a moment and his voice was lower when he spoke again. "I need you to know something. Do not blame Drake for anything that may happen. I know Hood told you it was his login that was used, but it was too sloppy to be him. He is nothing if not a perfectionist and he is good at his work. He... he means well in all of this. I have told him my version of this story and I would like to think he listened to it in some way." Damian's gaze refocused on the camera again, his expression sad. "I know you will do what you have to and whatever happens... I forgive you. If you leave or if you stay and things become harder for everyone, whatever you choose to do when Hell comes to rain down, I know you will do what you feel is right. You always have. Even with me, even with what I have done."

Damian shifted then, sliding to his knees and leaning on one hand as he put himself closer to the camera, his voice even lower. "I know this is my fault. The position I put you in was wrong of me and I should have realized that... if not before I did it, at least after the first action on my part." Damian's face took on a faraway look again, though he was still looking at the camera this time. "Mother used to talk about her lover, a man she felt she had to separate herself from because she could not contain her emotions toward him whenever he was around her. So she segregated herself from him, ripped him from her life and refused to be consumed by him any longer. But mother was foolish to think she could turn her back so easily on someone she cared so deeply for. It will be her downfall one day that she thinks she can move beyond him in such a way." Again, he shifted, this time settling back on his heels. "I digress. The point I needed to demonstrate is that this creation between us, it will not be swayed by time or distance if it is true on both sides. If one does not betray the other, then a year will be of little matter." His gaze came to the camera again, more open and honest than Dick had seen it in years. "If I can stay on father's path that long... if I can cease to continue failing him night after night... if I can do this without you."

The pain that filled Damian's face in the next instant gripped Dick's throat like a vice and everything in him screamed for him to get up and leave this train, to go back and refuse to leave without a fight. But he knew it would do no good, that it would only paint the portrait of himself as a villain even stronger for Bruce if he did and would force his brother's hands into action against him. Instead, he swallowed down the feelings like a bag of nails and just watched the screen while Damian fought for control over himself right in front of the camera lens. He watched as the mask slid into place, Damian finally realizing he had to wear it to keep talking.

"Find a way to tell me where you are when a year has passed and I will find a way to come to you... after I've found a way to provide father with a suitable replacement." Damian's gaze fell to the ground at his feet, his hand reaching to pluck a single blade of grass, letting it fall a few seconds later. "Dick..." his voice came back utterly wounded again. "I messed up. I put you in a situation I never should have and now you'll end up paying for it. I should have known better... even in Nanda Parbat, it would not have been necessarily legal. There is not a stated age there, but there is also the law of the land... the one that speaks of marriage before such things. And here... another year or so would have made all the difference in how things were judged for you. I knew what I was doing and I had an image of how you would react given your emotion toward me. Even if you had not thought of it before, I knew I could plant the seeds for you... and I used that. I played you into the situation and..." he looked back up at the camera, his gaze utterly naked again, aching pain written there, "and I am the reason for all that happens from here on out. But Dick... I..." Damian shook his head. "No... I will not be that cruel as to say these things here. Time will tell us both how the pieces will fall and when it comes to a time when the fallout is gone, when the poison in the air we breathe is relieved, then I will speak of whatever remains of these potent emotions you create within me. I only ask one thing of you, Dick Grayson. I ask you to never forget me."

The video cut a second later and Dick slowly shut the lid of his laptop, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair, fighting off the emotions churning inside of him. The train tracks clacked beneath the wheels of the train, the steady rhythm of it lulling him, no matter the anguish of his heart or the fear that gripped his mind. Even as he drifted off toward an exhausted sleep, he could already feel himself building up the walls he needed to survive the next year without any of his support network. It wasn't a new game for him, just a different situation, another reason and another place. Another mask he needed to wear and another person he needed to become. And if it meant saving Bruce from himself... if it meant not stumbling down the path of immorality with Damian... then he'd walk it no matter how sharp the stones beneath his feet, no matter the proverbial guns at his back. No matter his path, he'd always found success. Dick Grayson, Robin, Nightwing, Agent 37... and now as Derik Gleason. It was just another step on the road and at this, too, he would succeed.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new years everyone!  
> Song[s]: "Phenomenon" by Hacride

It had been three weeks since Dick had hit town, since he'd disappeared into the third largest metropolitan district in the nation, since he'd become one of the nameless, the faceless; but another fleeting image in a crowd. He'd stopped in several cities along the way, building intentionally false leads, letting himself be seen for at least a few days in each one, even backtracking to a couple of places to make his trail less obvious. He'd made his decision on where to end up in a less than arbitrary sort of way; hours of research in a library instead of on any sort of electronic format, digging up anything he could about directly linking members of the League or the Titans and ensuring none of them had ties to wherever he ended up. 

Three cities and hours of time spent with his nose in a book, he found himself certain of where he wanted to go: Dallas. When he'd arrived and stepped off the train, he'd found it to be a breath of fresh air, like some form of cosmic relief as soon as his feet touched the ground. At that point, it had become a game to find out what he needed to do in order to survive, in order to blend in and become nothing at all.

He spent the most time the first few days looking for a job, something to dictate where he'd eventually end up living, and as luck would have it his wandering of the various districts lead him right into the heart of Deep Ellum. The slew of bars and pizza joints, the concert venues, and the nearness to the depths of downtown caught and held him, enticed him into starting the trek up Main Street in hopes of finding someone hiring.

Countless hours of pounding the pavement led him to finally give in and take a seat at a little joint that opened earlier in the evening than some of the others. He settled into a seat near the huge front window, the wood creaking slightly beneath his weight as he reached for a menu, making a hasty decision on his food of choice before placing it down and shifting to gaze out the window. 

An hour later, his belly full and the waitress properly chatted up, Dick walked away with a single scrap of paper in his clutches. Not the waitress's number, as it once would have been, but instead the name of someone to ask for at a venue a mile or so away. She had known someone had just moved on to a new job from there and left an opening for security staff. And while Dick hadn't really done security, he knew he could pass any physical they wanted him to for the position with ease. The pay was moderate, enough to cover a cheap place to live, and the area provided him an element of the underbelly he had grown so used to between Gotham and Blüdhaven. 

And so it was, that Dick found himself a home within Deep Ellum, a place to call his own, a tiny little artist's loft closer to downtown and a job that both kept him in touch with his more physical self and gave him the freedom to exist as yet another nobody without hiding behind a mask to do it. 

Another month found him moved from the door to the actual venue floor during concerts, his position being the one to break up fights in the pit, which he always accomplished with complete ease. The sober fights were the easiest, the ones he talked down, but the drunken ones were the most fun, the ones where a well-delivered strike took care of the problem and always he did it too quickly for anyone to notice what had happened in the midst of the chaos of a concert. The music was usually good and the atmosphere left him tired enough to sleep at night when he went home.

The days he had off, Dick always found himself meandering between the West End and Main Street, making his way through the crowds of people sightseeing, wandering alone down the dark alleys in what he'd decided somewhere along the way was actually an attempt to invite trouble to follow him at night. But, as a rule, he only stopped the things he couldn't stand seeing happen. Most of the pickpockets he left alone, as long as it was a snatch and run, he turned a blind eye. Only when the defenseless came into play did he tend to step in, and only then when he was sure it could be blamed on a fluke that he'd happened along. He left the drunkards and the various acts of public indecency to fend for themselves and he forced himself to stay as far as he could away from anything that felt like it would turn ugly later in the night. But every single time he did, every time he turned his back, he could feel he old familiar ache that told him to stop it, that told him he was violating some standard he'd built early in his life with every blind eye he turned. 

Slowly, the world shifted before his eyes, became something else entirely from what it had once been. Where there had been hope, he found despair. Where there had been light, only the invitation of darkness remained. And where he'd once found fulfillment, he found only anguish. Jason's words rang clear to him, the ones asking him to find peace, to escape that life, to be the one that could. And his own words rang hollow and empty, a shell of laughter in his head even after such a period of time. _I promise you... I won't let this change who I am or what I stand for. I may have to give up being Nightwing... even give up being Dick Grayson, but I'll be damned if I'm giving up the person I've become these past few years._

Each night it became harder and harder not to follow that old, familiar path, more and more difficult not to lose who he was as a person when he stood by and idly looked the other direction at the crimes that were committed under his very nose. Maybe this wasn't _his_ city, but every murder, every rape, every violent domestic dispute he turned his back to followed him in an ever-lengthening shadow of failure, clinging to him with a weight he knew he'd never slip completely away from, even given time... even given a change in his methodology. 

One night finally found him atop the highest building in downtown, crouched on the edge of the building, clad only in the darkness of one of his old suits, not an ounce of color to the pitch black cloth. Dark makeup made up the mask over his face tonight, nothing more to hide behind than that. He knew he was asking for trouble, asking to be noticed and taken seriously in the night by dressing this way. Dressing normally would have afforded him the ignorable element, dressing like this begged for him to be seen, to be addressed and acknowledged, and he knew it.

Standing up, he set his grappling gun and then leapt from the side of the building. The old rush came pouring back, the breath of fresh air in his lungs, the fade of everything else in that moment of free-fall, and then the release and catch of his hook as he made his way from building to building, repeating it until he was on the shorter buildings, the ones crowded close enough to allow him to make the jumps unassisted. One rooftop to another, the crunch of gravel under his feet and the burn of air in his lungs as he pushed himself toward his limits. Running... always running these days. Away from the things no one thought he was running from. Running away from this newly formed life, away from the man he was becoming... and toward his past. He should have known better, should have understood he never could have left it be, that he'd never be able to walk away for even a full year without some element of the past reigning present in his ever-moving life. 

Landing hard into an alleyway, he brought his arm down hard on a man's arm, the Russian-made pistol falling to the ground with a clatter, the man bellowing in anger. The flash of metal in the moonlight and the panicked steps of the teenager the man had been assaulting rushing away. Dick brought his hand up hard into the man's face, the heel of his hand shoving upward with far more force than was necessary... and he watched him drop to the ground. _Dead weight_. The rumble of an incoming storm echoed off the buildings around him and still, Dick stood over the man's form, watching him as if utterly detached from the situation. 

This was what Damian felt every single time, wasn't it? This simple and base desire to complete what had been started, to make sure it never happened again. It was this that Jason gave into upon occasion, that both Tim and Bruce fought a war against in their own minds every single day. And it was this that he'd never honestly felt. Yes, he'd wanted to rid the Earth of some of the scum a few times, but he'd never honestly found the blackness inside of himself when he'd been presented with the situation. But now... now he could see it, could feel it licking at his mind, burning his fingertips and begging him to march forward.

The first drops of rain fell and Dick turned away from the man. Three steps and a leap onto the fire escape ladder. Another ten seconds and he was gone, disappearing into the night, allowing it to swallow him whole. This was it... this was how it was going to be. And when he found Damian again, at least he would know what the kid saw every single night, what his heart begged to be done and his fingers itched to complete. Maybe it was a blessing... or maybe it was the Devil hot on his heels.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song[s]: "Point of No Return" by Starset

The night was gentle, a balmy caress of heat from the day coming up off the pavement five stories below. The air was utterly still, even the noise of the city seeming calmer than it had been in months. Dick crouched on the edge of the building, simply watching, breathing in the easy breath of Deep Ellum's night. It was one of his nights off and though he was still close enough to hear the thrum of music from the venue he worked at, he was far enough away to ignore anything happening there for the time being and focus, instead, on the release of a myriad of people from the mental hospital a few blocks away from the venue.

It was the first and the sad fact was this happened every single month, like clockwork. People's money ran out, their coverage lapsing or their benefits concluding and they were turned out onto the street with only their meager belongings. At times, he was their protector, the shadow in the night that got them wherever they were going safely. At others, he was the thing that kept others safe from them, the angel in black as some had come to say. Because try as he might, his name had come up, had made a few waves on the word-of-mouth network of nearly every street kid in the vicinity of Dallas. He rarely left Deep Ellum these days, had claimed it as his own, but he had made a name for himself elsewhere as well, outside the bounds of his territory. 

Dick watched as the doors opened and five people took their first tentative steps out into the world in what was probably months for each of them. They split off, three going one way and two in the direction of the bus station. A quick check of the time told Dick they'd be there all night if they took too long and he ticked a mental note to check on them later. The other three were the ones he chose to follow, one separating from the others after two blocks. The boy looked to be barely into his teens and his hands had been shaking the entire walk, his words so quiet Dick couldn't even pick them up when he parted from the other's company, and that worried him in ways he didn't really want to admit.

Another few blocks and the kid disappeared inside of one of the abandoned buildings in the area. Dick slipped inside through one of the broken upper windows, quietly making his way along the scaffolding on the inside, tracking the kid toward a pile of blankets in the far corner. He gave him a minute, a funny feeling in the air as he watched him put down the small bag he'd been carrying and settle on the dirty fabric. A bit of scrambling around and the boy pulled out a small metal box from under the blankets, opening the top and extracting a small vial and needle. The liquid inside the vial glowed faintly and the sick crawling feeling clawed further up inside of Dick's chest as he watched.

Jumping down from the scaffolding, he landed a few feet away from the boy, taking a few quick steps and crouching down, holding out his hand and breathing out, "It's not worth it. There are other ways, I promise." The coldness in the kid's eyes when he looked up caught Dick off guard and he felt as if his heart were leaping up into his throat as he stared at him, holding the gaze that was so fragile and close to dead inside that it physically pained him to do so. Swallowing hard, he curled his fingers a little. "You have nowhere to go." It was a statement, not a question, and the nod he received didn't surprise him in the least. 

"If you did, would it change this," he inclined his head toward the vial in the kid's hand. "Would it change this decision?"

The kid's eyes closed and he leaned back against the wall, holding the vial tightly in his grip for the time being, the needle still clutched in his other hand. "You have it all wrong. I'm not here to find a trip... not here to find another world inside of some cheap street drug, man." When the kid opened his eyes again, the pain written within them burned with intensity. "I'm looking for a way out, a way to stop ending up inside those walls. This vial... it's the way out."

Dick kept his gaze held fast on the boy's eyes. "It won't be some quick death if that's what you're looking for. Don't use just the right amount and it'll be painful, pure agony that burns you up from the inside out... use too much and it could do something else to you entirely. I know what you have in your hands there, kid, and you're messing in something more dangerous than you could imagine. A bullet... a knife... those are one thing, but this is where it becomes my business, where you could become a threat to my side of the tracks in an instant." Even as he spoke the words, he knew they were colder than any he'd spoken in a long, long time. The longer he was gone, the further from Damian and the manor, the more and more he sounded like Bruce, the more he reacted like him... and the more he felt like him. 

Standing up, he kept his hand held out for the vial again. "I won't let you do it this way. I shouldn't let you do it at all, but it's not like I know the hell you've been through. I can't vouch for your life or your path and I can't preach to you when I don't believe in a damn thing. The truth is..." Dick looked away for a moment, shaking his head, "I'm a mess, too, kid. Even the person who's supposed to save you from the night, who's supposed to watch out for you, is losing hope in the world around him." He shrugged. "But at least don't take out a ton of other people with you... and don't make it painful for yourself. If it's quietly you're looking for, there's a hundred other paths to take. If it's someone to tell you time changes a ton of things, then here I am. And if nothing can turn you back... I'll fight you for that vial if I have to."

When he looked back, the kid was holding the vial out to him, sadness in his eyes, some amount of the cold deadness he'd found in his eyes before burned away. "This is just life then, isn't it?" The boy's voice was soft, the hint on the edge of it that was close to breaking drifting on the night.

Dick took the vial, tucking it away in his belt pouch. He extracted a wad of cash and held it out. "The choice is yours. You can check yourself back in for another week and hope it helps or you can find another way to stop the pain. That's all the extra I have and I have the sincere feeling you need it more than I do, either way you choose to go. Just... no more glowing green shit, okay?"

The kid took the money from him and Dick turned away, making a running leap for the edge of the railing and pulling himself up on to the scaffolding. A few swings and a vault out the window and he was off into the night, tracking the pair back toward the station to see if they'd caught the bus or not. 

Twenty minutes found him perched back in his original spot, satisfied the pair had gotten to wherever they were going just fine. Below him, a lone figure stood across the street from the asylum, blonde hair blowing on the slight breeze moving in from the west. Dick looked up toward the sky, his eyes finding the faintest outlines of the stars that hadn't been consumed by the lights of the city, listening to the steps of the boy beneath him. "Thank you," he whispered into the wind, his eyes finding the kid again as he slipped inside the asylum, the door closing behind him. "Thank you for letting some things turn out alright... even when I'm not."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song[s]: Album DUM SPIRO SPERO by Dir en grey

Dick leaned against the small island that separated his kitchen area from the bedroom area of his studio apartment. His hip gave a wrenching pop and he sighed, lifting a hot mug of coffee up to his lips and taking a fulfilling drink of it. Some things never changed and apparently getting the shit beaten out of him every once in a while didn't either. Even with his limited patrols, the attempt to still remain some figment of the darkness, he was still quite clearly in the game enough that someone could come hunting for him. Several members of PGTX, to be exact, had come to eradicate him from their lives. He'd stopped a few deals, interrupted a couple of trafficking incidents, and overall made it miserable for the gangs in the area. But he hadn't really expected to be pulled down into something like this so soon. 

He'd managed to avoid every gunshot, evade the stinging song of the knives they held, but he hadn't stopped every physical blow to his body. Hadn't been able to evade it all... and his body was showing the wear for it today. He blew on his coffee and took another long sip from the cup before placing it onto the counter behind him. A knock came on his door and he glanced toward it, his brow furrowed. No one knew where he lived except the landlady and his manager from the venue. He didn't even get bills here, using only pre-paid phones and all of his utilities covered by the landlady in the monthly rent costs. 

Skirting the island, Dick moved to the door as quietly as he could, peering out the peephole into the hallway. Tim stood in the hallway, a hood pulled up over his hair, but Dick would have recognized that stance anywhere, that distinct way of carrying himself. Fear lanced through him worse than it would have if anyone else had been outside his door. In an instant the door was open and he stepped back. "Come in." It was only after Tim stepped inside that Dick realized Tim shouldn't have been able to find him, shouldn't have been able to deduct where he'd run off to easy enough to find him like this.

Tim spared Dick a strained glance before he moved across the room to the balcony, choosing to stand there, his back to Dick. It was a habit that Dick knew Tim could have only picked up from one person, from Bruce, and it sent a surge of longing for the life he'd once had straight through him. "Should I bother asking how you found me?" He did his best to sound casual, to pretend Tim's very presence wasn't scaring the shit out of him.

"Let me give you a hint... disappearing doesn't usually include titles like 'the Black Angel' or 'Ellum's Black Guardian'... makes it kind of obvious, doesn't it?" 

Dick crossed his arms over his chest, gaze sliding to the view just outside his window, the one he could only imagine Tim wasn't even seeing despite looking right at it. "Not titles I made myself."

"But they exist all the same." Tim's stance shifted to mirror Dick's own, tipping Dick off that he was definitely being watched. "But that's not why I came here. Disappearing or not isn't the point of any of this; that part was always up to you as long as you left Gotham and Blüdhaven behind."

"Then what _is_ the point?" Dick's voice was achingly quiet, the dip of it nearly frightening.

"Damian..." Tim turned then, looking Dick right in the eyes. "He's losing the fight, one battle at a time. And now..." Tim shook his head, "from the stories, if half of them are even true, so are you."

Cold fingers of dread curled their nasty fingers around Dick's heart, clenching tight as he regarded Tim's words. The truth in the last few rang so deeply that he had to force himself beyond them for the time being, focus on the ones that mattered far more. "What has he done?"

"Breaking things... their bones and his own. He's let himself get in the way of guns several times just to take someone down that Bruce could have taken out without any damage. He's hospitalized two men in the past few weeks, one of them still in critical condition. Bruce is creeping past frustrated into angry, I can see it boiling there and I don't know how to stop it. We've all tried talking to Damian already, telling him ho-"

"That's the problem... you're telling him what to do, probably talking _at_ him instead of actually _to_ him. Have you let him tell you his side? Given him an opening to just let it spill without demanding answers?" Tim's silence was answer enough and Dick breathed out a sigh. "None of you have ever understood how to talk to him, not really... all he needs is the opportunity and he'll choose if he answers or not. But forcing him is only going to result in more anger to add to what boils inside of him every minute of every day. He can't kill it, Tim... none of us can. We can only pray to chase it away for long enough to last another day and ask forgiveness when we can't. Everyone sees him as different, maybe we expect him to be stronger than the rest of us, raised in this life since birth. But he's not... he's just as fragile and unstable as the lot of us are. And don't you dare argue with me on us being unstable. We're all just this side of the asylum ourselves, just this side of the law... and when one of us gets closer to that line, the rest react in horror. Do you know why that is?" He turned his gaze on Tim again, this time it was burning hot, filled with barely restrained anger.

Tim shook his head just the slightest and Dick took two steps toward him, watching as he nearly didn't stop himself from taking one back in answer. "Because we know we're all monsters inside, little bird. Because we know just how little it would take to turn us against the others, turn us to the wrong side. You see, we have to protect one another from that path and when we don't have one another... we start to fall, no matter our intentions, no matter our path. Because unchecked, we're nothing more than a single step from those we fight."

Tim's voice came out stronger than Dick had anticipated when he finally spoke, his shoulders straightening as he confronted Dick head-on. "Have you crossed that line yet, Dick? Have you found yourself on the bottom of the barrel with nowhere else to turn just yet?"

Dick backed Tim up toward the wall just beside the glass door to the balcony, stopping when he had his hand on the wall just beside his head. "I've crossed a hundred lines, broken a thousand rules... and if you're asking if I've done the thing I left to save Bruce from doing... not yet. I won't say no, I won't say never, because it's an inevitability, isn't it? When your entire life has been turned upside down, when no one can know who you are or what you do... when the net is pulled from beneath your feet and you're left with hundreds of feet of open air below your tightrope, it's only a question of _when_... not _if_." He pulled back, crossing his arms and shaking his head as he looked out over the city's skyline. 

"I'm not the one who told Bruce... I know it looks like I did, but I didn't. I believed in your ability to keep your hands to yourself. I knew you'd never hurt someone you loved so much. I just..." Tim seemed to deflate against the wall, sadness crossing his features. "I couldn't stop protecting him. I couldn't stop warning you because I was afraid. I was afraid of that line we both know it'd be so easy to cross, the one that keeps us from becoming what we hunt. I was afraid of losing you both... but I... I think it _was_ my fault somehow. The way I kept acting around you, the warnings, the discussions... I think we started to look suspicious and Bruce doesn't play at waiting things out. Either he looked... or someone else did it for him."

Dick turned his back on Tim, moving back to his cup he'd left on the counter. He drained the last bit of his coffee and went to wash the mug, quietly placing it in the drain board once he was done, turning back around, his hands on the edge of the counter as he regarded Tim. "If I hadn't thought you meant well, I would have beaten you to a bloody pulp in the bathroom that night. If I hadn't thought you had Damian's best interests at heart, I would have cut you down a hundred times in those months when you treated me like I was scum beneath your feet instead of your own family. And if I didn't think you had him in your mind right now, I'd have told you to go to hell and slammed the door in your face. I know you're scared, Tim... I know that my love for him terrifies you. Maybe because you don't believe in it or maybe because you do and the fact that one of us is capable of such a thing is downright mind-blowing. And you know what? It scares the shit out of me, too. The fact that all this distance, the complete lack of contact, the not knowing what he's doing or anything else... has done nothing to quell any of it... that shoves my heart up in my throat every time I think about it." Dick crossed his arms, gazing at the floor at his feet. "When I opened that door, all I could think was how bad it had to be for you to come get me, of all people. The exiled one, the son Bruce has disowned. I wondered for a moment..." Dick's throat seized up, but he forced it out anyway, "if you weren't here to tell me he was gone."

When Dick finally found it in himself to look back up, he found the most purely agonized look on Tim's face. He shook his head, just the smallest gesture, and then turned away, his back rigid and his breathing so even that Dick knew Tim had just lost the battle with his tears. The memories that statement had to have dredged up were nothing short of horrible, enough so that Dick found himself pushing past it all as well, wincing as he fought off the onslaught of the past.

"Dick... I came because I'm afraid it's already too late. I'm afraid we'll lose him again and... and I _can't_ -" his voice cut off hard, a choked sound following it up and Dick knew he was fighting not to sob.

Dick turned to the cabinet behind him, pulling down two shot glasses and a fifth of whiskey. Pouring two shots, he took one himself and then walked with the other to Tim's side. He made an effort not to look at him, not to see the tears as he held out the drink, feeling Tim's trembling hand take it from him and hearing the sound of him swallowing it back. "I'm coming home."

Tim's hand came to squeeze Dick's forearm, fingers gripping tight as he nodded, wordless, Dick turning his head to see him finally. Tears tracked down his cheeks, his face a mask of pain and fear that Dick honestly hadn't seen there since... since... no, he couldn't think of that right then. Pulling Tim into his arms, he pressed his nose against his hair and closed his eyes. "I'm going for him... for you. Come whatever may from it all. But when the lines are drawn, you're going to have to choose a side, little bird. Mine or his."

"It'll always be yours, Dick... it always has been. Don't you see? I wanted you to go to save you from yourself."


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "Pieces" by Red - my god, this is perfect. Thank you so much for putting me onto this band. ♥  
> This entire story has been something of a novel experience for me. The length, the desire to write chapters again when I'm only writing on my own... and this chapter here, I actually re-wrote it from the start. I haven't done that in _years_. I deleted over 500 words and started again, which is something I've staunchly refused to do for a long time now. Opening new doors with a New Year, I suppose, since I'm writing this on New Year's Eve.   
>  To each of you discussing things with me, each of you encouraging me by commenting or leaving kudos, thank you deeply. May this year find each and every one of you where you need to be.

The first frail pieces of snow began to fall just as Dick and Jason pulled into the driveway of the manor. Jay had come to pick him up from the airport, Tim having left without him so as to not arise suspicion if Bruce had been watching Tim's whereabouts. They'd made a quick stop by Dick's old apartment to drop his stuff and let him freshen up. The memory of the way Jason watched him, the lines of worry etched on his face, and the sincerity in his voice when he'd welcomed him home would probably stay with Dick forever. If he'd thought Tim had been worried about his behavior in Dallas, he'd been incredibly underestimating the ability of someone to care about him, because Jay's went even deeper.

They hadn't talked more than was necessary and Jay hadn't brought up a single thing about Damian or Dick himself, but the words didn't have to be spoken to be heard. The fear of the path they were both walking... the anxiousness over what would come of tonight... and a deep-seated affection that left Dick feeling overwhelmingly loved were at the heart of every single moment from the second he met eyes with Jason after stepping out of the airport's sliding glass doors. It had left him with a fulfilled feeling he hadn't had in all the months he'd been gone, left him with something that told him he honestly couldn't go this road alone.

So when they stepped off the bike, Dick pulled his jacket tighter around himself, letting his helmet dangle from two fingers, and breathed out, "Jay..." 

Jason swung his leg over the bike and dismounted, opening the seat and placing his helmet in, taking the one from Dick and stowing it away as well. Their eyes met as he snapped it back closed. 

"If it all goes south in here-"

"-I have your back, Dickie-bird." Jason came around the bike, standing close enough that Dick could feel the hint of his affection, though he knew Jay wasn't one for scooping him up into a hug at a moment's notice. "You both look like shit without one another... and I only hope B can see that as well as I can." He placed his hand on Dick's shoulder, squeezing tightly and then letting go as he stepped past him. "Keep your head down and don't say a word until we're in the dining room. I intentionally brought us late, okay?"

Dick gave a nod, mounting the steps behind Jason, just trailing along, even after they entered the house. Their jackets were left in the foyer, Jason making sure he was a good few feet in front of Dick as they stepped into the dining room. Bruce sat at the head of the table, his back to them. Tim was the first to look up, his eyes flicking to Alfred and giving the smallest shake of his head when he started to speak.

Alfred closed his mouth, instead giving a warm smile in Dick's direction. Jason stepped aside so that Damian could see behind him, bringing a single finger up to his lips as he did so before making his way around to Bruce's other side, clearing his throat and placing his hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Hey... sorry we're late."

Damian's face lit up instantly, his entire demeanor shifting from dreary to relaxed and open. Dick watched him, an answering smile on his lips as Damian pushed his chair back and came to him. Bruce didn't turn around, distracted enough by Jason's comments for the moment that he wasn't worrying too much about what was happening behind him, though Dick had no reason to believe he didn't already know what was going on. After all, this was _Batman_ they were talking about, wasn't it?

Damian's hand found Dick's own, holding on and squeezing tightly for a few seconds before letting go and rounding the table, pulling out the chair next to his own and meeting Dick's gaze. "Alfred, would you get him a plate please?"

A few steps brought Dick to Damian's side and he eased into the chair, letting him help push it in. He looked up only once Damian and Jason were seated as well, finding Bruce staring at him, his expression entirely unreadable. For a moment, Dick thought about keeping things calm, about not speaking his mind at the dinner table, but he honestly didn't think anywhere else was going to be any better. Here they were at least trapped by etiquette if nothing else. "I think it's high time everyone gets to hear the same story at the same time."

He could feel Damian's gaze on him, feel the way Tim and Jay were both primed to react if they needed to, and he could plainly see the anger blossoming on Bruce's face. "Please, just hear me out."

"No... how about everyone hear me out first." The words didn't come as a question, but as a quiet statement of purpose from Damian. It held no venom, no malice, but it was commanding all the same. "I know what happened, no matter how everyone seems determined to keep it from me. I have never been blind enough to believe the half-truths I have been given. Not to mention I'm the one who caused this mess to start with."

"You do _not_ have to talk about this." Bruce's voice was cutting, the edge to it sharp as a razor blade and if he'd been able to burn holes in things the way Clark could, Dick had serious reason to believe he'd be a greasy spot on the carpet instead of an intact human being.

"I _will_ talk about this." Damian's response held an equal amount of venom and in that moment, Dick could see his father in him plain as day. "I behaved in a way inappropriate to, perhaps, my own age. I know the error of what I did, but if you ask me if I regret it... I don't." He met his father's eyes and then turned to look at the rest of the table before sliding his hand onto the table, holding it palm up, an invitation to Dick.

Dick shifted just enough to place his hand over Damian's own, linking their fingers in a way that transported him back to another day, a different time. To a discussion that felt like it happened eons ago wherein he'd feared the inevitable for Bruce, feared what it would mean for all of them. But in his wildest dreams, he'd never thought it would have been a prelude to him being the catalyst... to him being the one person on the planet that Bruce would be able to see himself ending.

Damian's fingers clutched tightly to Dick's own, his grip like a vice as he continued, his voice far stronger than his actions belayed he felt. "I feel that my personal life should remain so, but I also think that all of you have the wrong ideas in what Dick has and has not done. So I will be perfectly blunt, for his sake. He has never breached any boundaries that our ages would conclude were illegal and I do not believe he ever would." He paused, looking down at the table and then quietly offering, "Alfred, if you want to hear this, you may. If you would prefer to remain oblivious to all of this, then you may not wish to come back just yet."

"I am as much a part of this as the rest of you are, Master Damian." A plate came to rest in front of Dick and one in front of Jason before Alfred took his seat next to Tim once again.

Damian gripped Dick's hand tighter, the pressure nearly painful. "I am the one who created inappropriate situations, things I have no doubt that at least one of you witnessed and another of you found on security footage later. I take ownership of what I did and all I ask in return is that all of you understand something." He looked up then, right at Bruce as he spoke. "Especially you, Father. I need him in my life and you ripped him away from me without warning, without asking for the truth from either of us. I know you meant well, that you took what you saw to be something beyond what it was, and that you were trying to protect your son. But the truth is... you betrayed your _first_ son in those moments." His words came out hard, with striking accuracy as he spoke them. "By not asking either of us what truly happened, by making assumptions, you cast him out on the street, turned your back on him worse than any other time, and to make it worse, you forbid him to remain in his own city."

Damian disengaged his hand from Dick's then, standing up and moving behind his chair, pushing it in and placing his hands on the back of it, his grip white-knuckled. "The biggest betrayal in this was never his. It was _yours_ , father. It was how eager you were to believe he did something wrong, how easily you believed he betrayed every rule you've ever instilled in him..." the next words were spoken so quietly Dick barely heard them himself. "It was how badly you wounded all of us by removing him from our lives... and how badly you have broken _him_ in that same breath." He lifted his hands from the back of the chair. "I need a moment. Alfred, if... you would come with me?"

Alfred got up from the table, placing his napkin down and following Damian from the room. Silence prevailed until the back door clicked shut behind them. Only then did Dick dare to speak. "He's right you know... in more than one way. I've done my best to ignore most of what he just said, done what I can to take it all one day at a time and pretend it might all be okay again at some point. But the truth is... it hurts. I never touched him, Bruce." Dick lifted his gaze to Bruce's own, everything he was feeling written plainly across the lines of his face. "Just like you never touched me."

Every ounce of composure Bruce had been holding onto slipped away in that moment and before anyone could react, Bruce's chair hit the wall with a thud, his hands slamming down on the table hard enough to clatter dishes. "This isn't about me!" The pure anger in his tone had both Jason and Tim rising to their feet, though Dick remained seated, having expected the outburst far more than he was willing to admit at the moment.

"It is though, isn't it?" Dick just kept his calm gaze on Bruce's face. "You're so afraid of the things you came so close to doing once upon a time that you're taking it all out on me now that our situations parallel one another. But there's one thing you're missing, Bruce. One vital flaw in your plan of punishing me for things I haven't done - and wouldn't have done." Dick stood up then, pushing his hands into his pockets and allowing his entire stance to be utterly at ease as he gazed out the window, watching as Damian threw a tennis ball for Titus, the Great Dane barreling after it through the snow. "I'm not you." 

Dick turned his gaze back to Bruce then, watching the man he'd considered to be his father figure for years start to deflate right in front of him. "I've never been you, no matter how much you've tried to create me in your image. There were already years under my belt before I came to you, already lessons learned that differed from your own. And while you may see it that I'm faced with the same situation you were... I'm not, Bruce. I need you to believe me when I tell you this, because I won't bother repeating it to any of you a third time, especially when I haven't even told _him_ in a way he deserves to hear it. I love him. And it's not the fleeting kind. It never has been. It was there far before the moments causing such contention between our family and it hasn't faded in the least since I've been away. It hadn't in the past and it won't now, even if you turn me back out onto the streets after this. But the truth of the matter is: I came for him. Even knowing my own life was on the line, I came back for his well-being. Because without me, he's a mess... and without him..." Dick shook his head, gazing out into the rapidly whitening yard, "I come closer to that line we're all so afraid he's going to cross with every single day I'm away from him. Because, you see... it's not just him that needs me... it's me that needs him."

Dick stepped around Damian's chair and moved to stand as close to Bruce as he dared. "We've always solved things with our fists and maybe that's never been the right way of dealing with it. And maybe there are situations that shouldn't be solved that way at all. If you'd consider the things I've said, the things he's said... and maybe reconsider the threat of my life and the exile you've placed upon my head, I'd be... grateful." Dick touched Bruce's shoulder, taking in a deep breath and then letting go. "I'm going outside for a minute and if all of you might see it in you to at least give me a few minutes with him before any decisions are made, that'd be awesome, too." He gestured at the window. "After all, you can watch my every move." The last words came out resigned, heavy with the weight of everything that had transpired.

The instant Dick stepped out the back door, Damian turned toward him, his expression hopeful. Dick gave him a soft smile, kneeling down and holding out his hand for Titus to give him the ball. Once he had, he tossed it for him. "Alfred... could you give us a moment?" He gave a half-nod toward the window. "Everyone can see us from there..."

Alfred's hand landed warm and comforting on Dick's back. "I feel no particular need to keep an eye on you. It's been a very long time since I felt that I needed to do such a thing." He turned then, opening the door.

"Alfred..." once he knew he had his attention, Dick breathed out a soft, "Thank you."

"There's no need to thank me for decency, Master Dick." And with that, he was gone, disappearing back inside the manor, the door clicking shut behind him.

When Dick looked back toward the yard, he found Damian crouched next to Titus, watching him as he stroked the dog's ears. Before Dick could say a word, Damian beat him to it. "Don't leave me this time. I know you didn't have a choice before. But this time, I'll leave with you if you're going."

"I have no intention of leaving without a fight this time." Dick pushed his hands into his pockets and took a step closer. "I wouldn't have before if-"

"-if you hadn't been saving Father from himself." Damian stood up, his hand still on Titus' head. "I know your reasons and I agree with them. I am simply asking that you not repeat them this time."

Dick took two steps closer to Damian, his hands pulling free from his pockets, the urge there to hold Damian close to him the way he wanted to, to ease the ache inside of him with the contact. Instead of the hug he wanted to give to Damian, he knelt in front of Titus and looped his arms around the dog's neck, holding him as he stared up into Damian's eyes, the pair of them quiet for the moment. When he finally pulled back and stood up, dusting the arms of his sweater, he dared to speak again. "I understand the fragile line you walk every single day just a little better now." He watched the pain lance across Damian's face and he forced himself not to look away from it. "I have also come to realize that the way I feel about you... it's never going to change." Dick reached out one hand, Damian hooking his fingers with Dick's own, the dog between them, forcing them to keep the distance neither of them wanted to maintain. "Dami... I love you and I always have. It's only the method that's changed over the years, that's grown into something more, something different."

Damian's grip tightened on Dick's hand. "I believe you already know how much I mirror those emotions, but I feel that, perhaps, it is time for me to actually speak them to you." He rested his other hand on Titus' head, brushing away the light amount of snow that had fallen on him in only the last few moments. "I need you in my life. I need you to keep myself sane, to lead me down the proper paths in life. Some part of me thought I could do this alone, that I could make it without you. But I couldn't even last a week before the weight became unbearable without you." He took half a step closer, pressing Titus against his and Dick's legs. "I'm broken without you. The truth is, you... you complete me, Dick Grayson."

Dick gripped Damian's hand harder in his own, swallowing hard against the emotions that welled up inside of him at Damian's words. Letting out a quiet huff of breath, he offered quietly, "I'd kiss you right now if I could... I just need you to know that." 

There was a moment of hesitation and then Damian leaned past the dog, gripping Dick's shoulder as he pressed a kiss to his cheek, breathing out, "You better make good on that basically the moment I turn eighteen, I hope you know that."

Laughter bubbled up inside of Dick and for the first time in months, he actually let himself laugh. The freedom of it astounded him and he grinned at Damian, ruffling his hair and receiving a squinty-eyed look from Damian for his efforts. "Trust me, I will." He flicked his eyes toward the window, watching as Damian looked toward it and then pulled away, retrieving Titus' ball and throwing it for him again before he turned to walk toward the door. "I suppose we should go back in before they have a cow, hmm?"

"Yeah... one cow is enough," Dick teased. The light-heartedness he'd once held around Damian was slowly returning and he couldn't have been more thankful for it. The sense that somehow everything would be okay was overwhelming and even as Dick stepped inside, Titus slipping in past his legs, he knew without a doubt that even if it wasn't... they'd survive this _together_. Separate they were a wreck, a storm delicately brewing, but together... they were unstoppable.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "Angel" by Theory of a Deadman

Bruce stood by the window in the parlor, his hands clasped behind his back and not for the first time in the past twenty four hours, Dick became startlingly aware of the things Bruce had passed down to his wards, to his sons, that he perhaps had never meant to. The pose was eerily similar to Tim's when he'd come to speak with Dick about Damian's well-being and the parallel only continued when Bruce finally spoke. "You have to understand my position on why I banned you from our lives."

Dick stood slightly behind him, resting on a chair just enough toward the left that it afforded him a partial view of Bruce's face in the reflection of the window. He let his gaze fall toward the floor at his feet as Bruce spoke though, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. "Bruce, I-"

"No. You do not understand, you never did. You may be in what you equate to be a position I've been in before, but you have no idea how much I failed each of you while you were under my care. Every time I have taken any of you out there, into harm's way... every single time I've watched one of you fall and yet still barreled on ahead like it was nothing more than another thing to drive me forward... I have failed you. And when I was gone, you took Damian under your protection and you took a walk in my shoes, taking him along as your Robin. But what you didn't understand - because I failed to instill it in you - was that by doing that, you created a bond you'll never be able to break. The instant you each became responsible for the other's life, you started something you can never back out of."

Bruce's stance shifted just the slightest before he became oddly still. "These thoughts about my son... did they come shortly after the first time you took him out there?"

Dick regarded Bruce's back as he moved to let his hand settle on the back of the chair he was standing by. "The start of them... perhaps. But far be it for me to pinpoint an exact time."

"Then tell me when you knew my emotions became more than they should have been for you."

Mentally, Dick ticked off the times he'd taken full notice of it before he finally came to the first instance. "Are you sure you want to hear this finally spoken aloud, Bruce? Once it has... there's no denial any longer."

"It's the only way you will see this from my side."

Dick took in a deep breath and released it as he closed his eyes, remembering the scene as if reliving it. "We'd just come back from our fourth or fifth run... the ones after you finally let me come with you rather than rescuing me from defying you. I was entering information on the computer and I could feel your presence behind me, even though you didn't say a thing. But I didn't want to tell you I could already read your presence like that, didn't want to let on that I knew more than you thought I did." He fell silent for a moment, opening his eyes and finally finding some amount of hesitation in telling Bruce this. Swallowing it back, he lifted his eyes, finding Bruce watching him, the exact same haunting look on his face that Dick had found there that night. "I turned around once I heard the slightest hitch in your breath, something that I could use to say I finally heard you..." Dick held Bruce's gaze, everything in him refusing to look away or to let Bruce do so either. "The way you were looking at me... it... it told me a million things without you ever saying a word. I was your ward, your unspoken son... and the way you stared at me that night... that's not the way you regard a son. It wasn't the last time I ever saw it, though you hid it far better after that night. Maybe you knew I could see it and that I knew what it was or maybe you just hated yourself enough to tuck it away. But I watched that look come over your face only a few more times in the course of the years... and Bruce," Dick gripped the edge of the chair a little harder, "one of them wasn't directed anywhere near me."

"Don't." The voice came from behind him, a slight tremble to the tone of it telling him to back off before he tread on something he shouldn't. Turning his head, he watched as Tim stepped out of the shadows beside the grandfather clock, a certain amount of surprise filtering through him. Tim had never gotten the drop on him like that, but tonight he'd managed and it told Dick he was further off his game than he wanted to be. 

Tim was wearing one of his old sweatshirts and his hands were tucked away in the front pocket. His head was bowed, but there was no mistaking the way he was carrying himself. Full of pain, full of something that had Dick's chest tightening, his skin crawling with irritation that told him there were a hundred things even he didn't know... that maybe he didn't _want_ to know.

"Dick... could you give us a moment?" Bruce's voice was surprisingly gentle, utterly different from how it had been with Dick a few moments before. Glancing back at him, Dick studied his face, finding regret under the surface of the attempt at a stoic sort of façade. 

Stepping around the chair, Dick made a beeline toward Tim, pausing to put his hand on his shoulder, waiting until their eyes met before he squeezed in a comforting sort of way. "I'll be close by..." the unspoken offer to be there if he needed him was there, even as confusion ate at his gut as he moved past Tim toward the door. He stepped outside and closed it behind himself, taking a moment to just breathe, hearing the quiet murmur of voices, though nothing he could actually turn into words. Letting go of the knob, he turned to go toward the foyer, a small smile on his lips. "Jay-bird... eavesdropping doesn't solve a thing, you know."

"So says the man that remained just long enough to see if you could hear what they were talking about." Jason fell into step beside Dick, his steps easily matching Dick's own. Once they were out of the hallway, Dick chose to lean against the wall, his voice quiet. "I don't like the way that discussion went... and not for the reasons you'd think." He watched Jason, seeing the tension just beneath the surface. "Jay..." Dick's voice was pleading, gentler than even he expected it to be. "Tell me I'm imagining things. That this isn't what I think."

"Do you want me to lie to you?" Jason lifted his head then, his eyes holding something bitter and desperately angry burning bright in them. 

"Maybe I do..." Dick held his hand out toward Jason and to his surprise Jason took it, holding on tight for a moment before letting go.

"Then everything's fine and nothing happened... to any of us. You're imagining things and Bruce will let you stay like nothing ever happened." Even as he spoke the words, his voice changed in pitch, the rolling anger slowly starting to boil to the top. 

"Master Dick." Alfred's voice was strong, coming from right down the hallway they'd just come from, lending Dick a reminder that half of Bruce's tricks had come from their butler, who still occasionally bested all of them, especially when tensions ran high like this. "I believe you may want to accidentally interrupt the conversation in the parlor now." There was a second's hesitation and then, "Quickly, if you would."

Dick turned and darted back down the hallway, wrenching open the door and stepping in. "Hey, guys, I-" he stopped mid-sentence, studying the situation in front of him. Bruce stood in the same place Dick had left him, though the way he held himself spoke of barely-held-back emotion, of the deep-seated desire to let it all out. But it was Tim that caught Dick's breath in his throat, that forced him to close the door behind himself and just stand there quietly, waiting on whatever was about to happen. 

Tim's hands were clenched at his sides and he stood dangerously close inside of Bruce's personal bubble. Tears streaked down his cheeks and when Dick looked closer, he could see he was trembling, perhaps with the effort of not screaming in Bruce's face, perhaps with something else entirely. For nearly a minute, nothing happened, and then Tim turned on his heel, moving away from Bruce and right toward Dick. He stopped barely short of running into him, reaching out and gripping his bicep tight, his hand shaking as he did. "Don't you dare let him kick you out again because of his own demons. You are _not_ him and you don't have to defend yourself as if you are. I couldn't be sorrier of the things I accused you of, but I can see it now... how you look at Damian... it's completely different. You love him and it's not the blind sort of love. It's the kind that opens our eyes... the sort that makes us stronger and better people in the end." He let his hand ghost down Dick's arm to his hand, their fingertips barely touching. "You won't be seeing me for a while, but if you need me, I'll be with the Titans, okay? I'll take a call from you any day of the week."

Dick caught his hand as Tim started to walk away, holding on tight for a moment. "Tim... I..." their eyes met and pain lanced through Dick for everything he saw there, everything he didn't want to see held within that gaze. He pulled him into his arms, one hand going to the back of his head and holding him close as he breathed out in his ear, "I'm sorry I've been so blind... but I'll be anything you need me to be from now on, okay?"

Tim pulled back, a bit forcefully, reaching up to grasp Dick's shoulders and hold him there, looking him right in the eyes. "It's not what you think... or maybe it is. But I can promise you it's not _who_ you think, okay?" He stared at Dick for a moment before sighing, letting go of his shoulders and dropping his hands, looking for all the world like he felt that everything was imploding around him. "We all have our skeletons in the closet, those things in our pasts that we wish we could escape, you know? Some just take up an overwhelming amount of room and shape us into believing the worst of even the people we shouldn't. I feel like giving you half the story will force you and everyone else to draw conclusions you shouldn't, that maybe at least one of us already has decided something happened that hasn't. I'm going to say this once..." he raised his voice a bit. "Jason, get in here because you need to hear this just as clearly."

The door opened a moment later and Jason stepped in, moving to stand next to the fireplace, carefully - and from what Dick could tell - purposefully between Tim and Bruce. 

Tim took a moment, obviously composing himself before he pushed his still-trembling hands into his pockets, his gaze on the flames in the fireplace as he spoke. "Don't stop me or I won't get it all out. I barely got out enough to tell Bruce what he needed to know one night all those years ago." He visibly swallowed and then looked toward Dick for a fraction of a second before turning right back to the fireplace. "I grew up in a home that, from the outside, looked beautiful and wonderful, that looked like I had two parents who loved me very much and looked like a place no one could ever come under hardship. But the truth is, when you have a third adult living in your home and your family thinks that person could do no wrong... things can happen and no matter how loudly you scream, no one will help you."

Dick watched Jason's fists clench, heard the shift of leather as he tensed up. He caught the movement of Bruce as he turned more fully toward Tim, openly watching him as he spoke. His own hands found their homes in his pockets, forcing him to stop from reaching out in comfort or anything else.

"My parent's best friend did unspeakable things to me for a good many years, right under their noses and it was always explained away. Tim fell down the stairs, Tim plays rough on the playground, Tim..." his voice cracked and he shook his head, "there's things I'll never be able to say and that's just how that sort of thing is. It's part of what drives me every day to do the right thing, to play on the right side of this fragile fence we straddle every day." 

He took in a breath and closed his eyes, just standing there for a moment before he continued. "Bruce never touched me... I know some of you may have gotten an implication like that somewhere, but trust me, he didn't. Jay, I know you think that's what I was trying to tell you that night when I should have been out on patrol and instead ended up underage and drunk in your apartment. But I wasn't getting it out right... I never meant to imply he did anything to me." He opened his eyes and turned to catch Dick's gaze full-on. "And Dick, I know you think the conversation we just had brought you toward some similar conclusion. But let me set you straight on that. Bruce may have turned that look on me once upon a time, but it was only because he could see so much of you in me... and when he found out just how much that look scared the shit out of me," Tim shifted, reaching to push a hand through his hair, tugging agitatedly at it before dropping the hand to his side. "Well when I realized he could see how scared it made me, I knew he already knew my biggest secret. And who better to string up an abusive dirt-bag than Batman, right?" He huffed out a breath that sounded like a strangled sort of laugh. "I'll tell you... Batman _and_ Robin, that's who. And trust me, we did."

Dick gave Tim a moment before he moved to stand beside him, his hands in his pockets still, knowing he'd get overly affectionate if he took them away for the time being. 

Before Dick could get a word out, Bruce spoke up, his voice oddly lilted, even for him. "There's only three people I've ever honestly felt like killing in my entire life. The man whose name I have been asked to never speak aloud again," he gave a pointed look toward Tim, "the man who killed one of my own," he flicked his gaze to Jason briefly, "and my own ward when I believed, foolishly, that he could have crossed a line with my youngest son." He met Dick's eyes, regret held deep within them this time. "Whenever someone questions why I hold back, why I don't cross that final line, I've never had a good answer for them... until now. Today, I can tell them that sometimes things are not as they seem, no matter how clear the tracks appear to be. Sometimes you can believe the unspeakable of someone," the implication was clear in what the others in the room had believed of him only moments before, "even if it isn't at all the truth. Anger narrows our gaze, allowing us only to see what we think is the truth... but fear blinds us completely."

Dick could almost hear Alfred's voice in his head, telling them all about the logical thing to do and he wondered if anyone else had a conscience that spoke in his voice at times like these. He shifted past Tim, his hand moving from his pocket to drift over Tim's back as he walked past him toward Bruce. Stopping in front of him, he clasped his hands behind his back and looked him right in the eyes. "I forgive you for the things you thought me possible of... and I forgive you for whatever invisible infraction you think your mind committed upon me back then. But, Bruce... thoughts are just that: thoughts. It's a part of being human, to err... and I think any higher power that may exist probably looks regularly at those of us within these walls and sees the debt we owe and the debts owed to us for such things. We've all had our hard paths, our shit-storms that have made us stronger in the end, but I think we need to leave the reckoning for _thoughts_ to whatever comes after this world we're living in. I won't say none of us have done wrong, I won't say it was right of me to do some of the things I have, but I am just as aware of the lines in the sand as the rest of you are."

He turned back toward Tim then. "Tim... I forgive you for the accusations of things I'd never do... and I see now why you would believe it of me and I'm sorry you had to dig so deeply to make me see why you've done all you have."

Jason sagged against the wall next to the fireplace, speaking up, though it was so soft that Dick wasn't entirely sure it was Jay talking for a moment. "Tim, I'm sorry I misunderstood your implications that night... and Bruce, I'm sorry for treating you like shit for believing something that wasn't true. And..." his voice broke then and Dick was nearly certain he was about to crumble, "and I'm sorry I wanted you to kill Joker. I never... never thought about what it would do to you."

"Jay, I'm sorry for making you believe ugly things about Bruce that were anything but the truth and I'm sorry for using you as an accessory to every single one of my teenage fuck-ups. And Dick... I'm sorry for thinking ill of you when you've not deserved it." Tim lifted his head, tears glistening in his eyes again. "But Bruce... what I told you still stands. If you kick Dick out for everything you imagine him to be capable of again, I will turn around and walk out of your life forever. My side has been chosen, no matter what you've done for me in the past. You need to see your sons needs in this... _both_ of them. It's killing them and I know you never intended that to be the result."

Jason straightened from the wall, taking the steps needed to align himself with Dick, his shoulders squaring as he faced Bruce, his hands lightly in his jeans pockets, the stance a forceful version of relaxed. "I think my alignment in all of this has been clear all along."

Bruce regarded them, studying each one in turn before he finally chose to speak. "It's hard not to see the error in your decisions when all three of your former Robins are dead-set against you. Dick... I retract my ban on your presence and things may take their natural course with Damian. _However_ , if I ever find out anything other than this is the truth, my threats will become _very_ real to you. Your intentions have to remain honorable as the law binds them to be, are we clear?"

"We always have been."

"I owe the same apology to all of you and perhaps to Damian as well. I have been blinded by past situations and I could not see the truth for the lines I drew myself. My son's pleas fell on deaf ears and that never should have happened." He turned away then, gazing out the window, his arms crossed over his chest instead of behind his back. "I think there are four people that need to patrol tonight... and one old man that needs to remain behind for the sake of allowing renewal to an old bond he snapped apart."

Dick let a smile curl his lips. "Perhaps... or maybe you could come anyway. I think there's more than one bond that needs mending tonight, Bruce." Their eyes met in the window's reflection and Dick could have sworn he found relief in that gaze. 

"Maybe so."


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: Album "Beauty and Rage" by Red

Dick stood on the ledge of the tallest apartment building on the west side of downtown Gotham. The snow had kept coming down, but was only sticking on the natural patches of earth, the streets simply wet, not yet frozen. He didn't bother to hide, didn't bother to crouch down. It wasn't like they weren't some kind of obscene spectacle as it was. Bruce was hanging back, but his presence seemed to lend an authoritative sort of air to the otherwise somehow freeing calmness everyone else seemed to be displaying.

Jason had pulled his hood from his bike and accepted the use of one of his old jackets with a hastily ironed bat symbol on it as the rest of his outfit for the night. Dick could only guess where he'd pulled his guns from or what point he was trying to prove by putting them on while he was in the Bat's presence, but no one had argued with him. Tim remained at Jason's side, perhaps a step or so closer to him than was entirely necessary at any given moment. Dick knew it had everything to do with feeling protected from what he'd revealed earlier in the night and Jay didn't seem to mind, just presenting himself as a much-needed rock for the evening. Much to Dick's surprise, Tim had managed to scavenge up something that looked sincerely like his usual Red Robin suit and it amused him that Bruce obviously kept backup supplies for Tim in the cave.

Bruce, of course, kept with his usual suit and his usual gruff air. Damian had come out in his Robin uniform, but when they'd started to make their flights from building to building, their dashes across the darkened streets, Dick had found himself relaxing as they'd synced up, just like old times. Even now, Damian stood at his left shoulder, a few paces back from him, his arms crossed and his piss-off attitude firmly in place.

And Dick... well, he was sure he'd surprised everyone. An old Nightwing suit had been fished up, but he'd denied the use of it, instead opting to take a piece of his old Bat-suit, the simple black garment with no emblems or identifying marks on the base pieces of it. Bodysuit, boots, and gauntlets in place, Dick had found one of his black, hooded jackets and added it to the ensemble, hiding away the gauntlets beneath the material. His gloves were simple riding gloves and he'd finished off the look with some of Barbara's old makeup that she'd left in one of the lockers down in the cave, smearing the black around his eyes in the form of a domino mask. No one had commented, though he'd seen the looks exchanged, the worry etched faintly in Jason's eyes, and he'd met it head-on, unyielding.

The wind picked up enough to force frigid air up the side of the building and Dick stepped closer to the edge, spreading his arms and then breathing out, "Robin?"

Damian was there in an instant, so close Dick was sure if he started to pitch over the side, Damian would have him back before he'd moved an inch. "What is it, Black Angel?" The last words were breathed out so quietly Dick was certain no one else could have heard them.

He turned his head to look down at Damian, watching the faintest twitch of his muscles, belaying his amusement in the matter at hand. It was more than obvious that he, too, had seen Dick's persona lighting up the Dallas newsfeeds when he'd become more brazen... that he'd been on the radar at the cave even while trying not to be. "Think you can catch me and get us to the next building?"

"-tt- Think, nothing." Damian took two steps back and let his arms rest at his sides.

Dick moved then, his steps easy as he turned his back to the ledge and spread his arms again, closing his eyes. "Robin's got me...this is the part where you all have to find some trust in us... some small modicum of belief that we're capable of great things, no matter how far you think some of us have fallen." Half a step back and only the tip of his toes touched the edge. He didn't make it showy, didn't bother with anything more than simply falling backwards, letting out a breath of, "Let me free fall for a second," before he felt the air catch him and he was plunging downward.

Damian was over the side of the building a mere fraction of a second after Dick and a moment later, he had Dick tight against his body. Dick's hand found Damian's side and Damian pushed his hand down over the grappling gun, a single word on his lips, "Trust," before he simply closed his eyes and let them fall.

Dick waited for just as long as he knew they could before he shot off the hook, hearing it slam into the neighboring building and he braced himself for the instant reversal of energy. It went taunt and began to reel in, both Dick and Damian reaching for the ledge as they were sling-shotted toward the opposing building. Both grasped the ledge at the exact same moment, hauling themselves up as Damian disengaged the hook, the pair of them taking off at a run for the next building, this time jumping one after the other across the chasm.

Gravel crunched and Dick landed hard, Damian hitting the rooftop and rolling out into a crouch just behind him. Three more pairs of boots hit the concrete behind them and Dick straightened up, dusting his hands and turned to face them, letting his hood fall back to reveal his face. "I won't tell any of you it's the last night I wear this mask, but I can tell you that when I do, there is a purpose behind it, one that Nightwing has never had." Looking from face to face, he lingered longest on Jay, whose stance told him all he needed to know about what he was thinking in that moment. The concern... and the familiarity were all written there. 

Turning around, Dick looked out over Gotham, finding the clock tower and letting a smile curve his lips. "You may be able to take us out of Gotham... but you can never take the Gotham out of us." As if to answer him, a scream pitched the air and Dick heard Tim's quiet, "Time to stop _dicking_ around and get to it, hmm?" He watched for a moment as Tim took off across the building, disappearing off the edge, the hiss of a grappling gun telling him he was finding his way through the night, tracking the sound.

Dick inclined his head after Tim, looking right at Bruce. "What are you waiting for? Sometimes you have to follow _us_ instead of the other way around." There was a single second's hesitation and then Bruce was off across the rooftop, launching himself from one to the other and then dropping off the side of the next building.

Jay stepped up beside Dick, his hand coming to rest on his shoulder. "Can I ask you something... _Black Angel_?"

"You can always ask me anything you want. If I answer is another matter."

Jason's hand slid down his arm before he pushed it into the pocket of his jacket. "Did you cross the lines the way I have while you were out there?"

"Between us?"

"Always."

Damian's presence shifted behind him, a gentle reminder that he was there and Dick knew it was in case he didn't want him to know whatever he was going to say. Dick spared him a brief glance to let him know he already knew he was there, that it didn't change anything. "In a manner of speaking... I did." He lifted his head, letting the air brush through it as it picked up even more. "I let them die on my watch, looked the other way to only stop the ones I either couldn't stand or the ones I could conceal. I watched people steal, watched them ship out drugs and traffic in the human body and I let it happen under my very own eyes."

"But did you ever pull the trigger?" There was something urgent in Jason's voice then, the faintest tremor of a necessity to know beneath the words.

"I came close... closer than any of the rest of us who haven't stepped over B's line before have. And I know how it feels to _want_ it to happen, now. How it feels to understand you hold that power in your hands every single time you involve yourself in something... and how it feels to know that you're falling and no one's there to stop you from it."

Jason looked away then, turning his back a moment later and Dick knew he needed his time, though he had no inclination to give it to him for the moment. "I haven't done it yet, Jay-bird. I know I've always been your shining beacon of hope... and if I'm honest with you, part of what made me stop that night was the idea of how you'd look at me if I didn't let him live."

"And the other part?"

Dick reached back, Damian's hand slipping into his own an instant later. "Knowing if I walked that path, I'd never come back from it... knowing I'd have failed all of you even if I never came back home... even if you never knew. And knowing I could never again tell someone to stop with any justification behind it."

Damian's fingers squeezed Dick's own and then let go. He stepped past Dick, stopping just beside Jason, his stance probably looking nothing short of authoritative to anyone who didn't know him as well as Dick did. But he could see the care beneath it, the need to comfort that drove him to his current position. "People like us, Hood... we do the things people like Batman and Nightwing cannot. We find the people who deserve something permanent and we provide it. If nothing else, if for no other reason, than to save our family from following the same road."

Jason's hand came to rest on Damian's shoulder and Dick imagined he could see the resignation on Jay's face even with his back turned. Dick hesitated for a moment and then followed his instinct, taking another step back and one to the left, letting his hands clasp behind his back as he simply watched... listened... for whatever could come next. Because sometimes... Robin knew best.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "Ascent" by Red

The Gotham night was brutal, the wind whipping across the rooftops with something akin to vengeance, as if it had a vendetta against anyone who dared to find their way into it. And yet, Dick _had_ to patrol. It wasn't like the criminals wouldn't use every excuse they could muster to try to be out in full-force on a night like this. And while Dick knew he should have been in Blüdhaven, something drove him to Gotham instead. Some nights it was as if the city called to him, opening her arms and asking to hold him once again. And he was hopeless at defeating that need, at refusing to submit to it as she obviously wanted him to.

Now he stood, his back against the cool brick of a warehouse wall, three stories up, eased onto a ledge that barely a fourth of his foot could stand upon, his breathing easier than it had been since he'd gotten back. Tonight, he felt like he was wrapped up so tightly within the city that even if he'd attempted the impossible, she would have rolled over for him. It was the old feeling that drove him to remain achingly in the embrace of this sort of life, that had created Black Angel back in Deep Ellum, that hadn't let him not pick Nightwing's mantle back up when he'd stepped back into his apartment in Blüdhaven. 

Below him three men discussed a deal, the product still unclear, but the amount of money surprisingly high, so Dick knew it had to be something good. Or maybe something really bad was more the operative term in this case. The people moved around below him and Dick let his gloved fingertips slowly trace the bricks on the wall, let his senses extend to the room around him, and a smile crept up on his face as he realized he wasn't alone. It was likely no one had noticed him up here, such a precarious position you had to be an idiot or have a death-wish to even consider perching here. But his company was crouched on the catwalk another story up. The night was deeper there, just in the middle, and Dick knew without trying to guess that he and Batman had found the same deal without so much as aiming for it.

Flicking his gaze around the room, he tried to find Robin, knowing well Batman never came without his backup. Perhaps outside, dealing with the goons Dick had simply slipped right past instead of taking down. Either way, he didn't seem to be inside for the time being, though a year had to have made a ton of difference in how Damian functioned in any given situation. Another year's training to him was probably like five to anyone else if they were honest.

One of the goons pulled a gun and Dick was down in the thick of it before anyone could register anything. He wrenched the hand back, flicking the safety on before the guy could pull the trigger. Another movement and he had the man out cold on the floor and two more guns trained on him. There was a flutter of a cape and a second later, two more guns joined the first on the floor, one more man dropping, the other being held up off the floor under Bruce's considerable strength. Dick elbowed the fourth in the face, sweeping his feet out from under him and following him down, crouching to wrench his hands around and hold them behind him.

Smaller hands than Bruce's came into his field of vision, using a zip-tie to tie the guy up. Dick dumped him back onto his back and stood watching as the other three were all tied up as well. That sense of calmness continued, everything easy for the time being as he looked over everyone present. He could see the questions written in the way Bruce simply stood there, watching him, and he answered them before they could be asked. "She called to me and I came." He shrugged, stepping back and letting his gaze linger on Damian for a brief moment. "It's not something you deny. You know that better than any of us, B."

Dick turned then, making a leap and then catching his hook up toward the rafters and the window he'd slipped in through. The hiss of another line told him all he needed to know and even as he took to the roof, making a beeline across it and taking in the already dealt-with goons, he could feel the faintest hint of a smile pulling at his lips. 

He didn't stop until he was at the docks, crouched to watch a drug deal go down, and when he planted himself there, on the edge of a shipping container, Dick still didn't look back at his companion. "Did he tell you to come or did you just abandon him for me?"

"-tt- you think I would abandon someone during a run?" Damian's boot creaked just the slightest and Dick could almost see the irritation that little sound caused him even though he wasn't looking anywhere near him. 

"Then he told you to come after me." Dick didn't pose it as a question, more as a statement of simple fact. But Damian's next words had him reconsidering the whole situation.

"I followed because I needed to know why you were in Gotham and why you have been for the past few nights." Damian's shift was subtle, barely able to be picked up, but Dick could feel him burning a fraction of an inch from his side and he let himself focus on it for a moment before returning most of his senses to the deal below them.

"She calls to me... I can't explain it, but I need to be here. It's been getting steadily more urgent each night."

"You are leaving your area unattended." Damian's voice was quiet, laced with something Dick couldn't quite define.

"I left her under Hood's watch when I was gone and there's no way he was patrolling all of it every night. Blüdhaven will be fine for a few nights, just like always."

Something caught in the way the next words came bubbling up from Damian, something that pulled all of Dick's attentions to his proverbial shadow. "He did though... every single night, Hood was out there for you. And what you do not know is _how_ he was out there."

Dick moved just enough to look back at Damian's face, finding him watching the scene below them, though it was obvious he only had his eyes on it and not all of his senses. 

"He had Red Robin and I fit him with a suit for the job." Damian shifted, his head finally lifting to look Dick in the eyes. The whited out eyes of his mask disengaged and for a moment Dick could see the sincerity in Damian's eyes as he whispered, "Dick, he took your place. In name and in spirit of everything you ever did while you were out there. B and I... we watched him. He never even toed the line while you were away... even when he should have."

Damian leapt off the side of the container, taking down the dealer with one well-placed nerve strike, turning to the teen who'd been buying the drugs and holding out his hand, silent as he waited. The drugs were placed into his palm with trembling fingers and Damian picked up the fallen money from the deal, holding it out to the girl. "Get a better habit." She took the money from him and Dick remained where he was, just letting Robin deal with this kid. "Get out of here." Her rushed steps led her off down the dock and Dick jumped off the container, tying the guy up and making the call to GCPD to let them know where to find the dude.

The rest of the night was relatively uneventful, Dick and Damian remaining quiet as they made the jumps from building to building, cruising around that part of Gotham and then departing into Blüdhaven territory. Dick made his way to his old garage, a place he still hadn't been since he'd gotten back, bringing up the override panel he'd hidden away in the wall, sure that Jason still hadn't transferred it back over to him, as they hadn't had the chance yet. 

Once they were inside, Dick closed the door and waited as they were scanned, the computer system registering them as clean and automatically letting them both in. Dick turned to study Damian for a moment and then breathed out a quiet laugh. "You don't look shocked at all and the computer didn't ask me to register you... you've been here before."

Damian gave a single nod as he passed Dick, moving up the stairs and to the small staging area there. The light came on and Damian turned around, his arms crossed over his chest as he regarded Dick, clearly waiting on him to notice the obvious. Dick moved up the stairs and came to rest against the railing, his pose mirroring Damian's own, though more at ease as he took in the more toned down Robin costume just to the right of Damian's current position and beside it the costume Jay had been using. All of Dick's own stuff remained, though moved slightly to the side, all with seeming care as to the placement.

Damian reached up and took off his mask, lying it down and reaching to place one hand on the wall, their eyes meeting, something burning inside of Dick as he stared at _his_ Robin. "You became his Robin as well, didn't you?"

"No." Fire licked behind Damian's eyes and he turned away, starting to remove his cape and then his boots, Dick watching him the entire time. "I became _Nightwing's_ Robin. I've never been Jay's and I never will be. I have been yours and I have been Father's. Jay and I... we were equals out there, Dick. No backup, no shadow... just tandem. And don't you ever think I did it for anything," he straightened up, his face unreadable for an instant before he breathed out, "but you."

Breath caught hard in Dick's chest and he felt his stance easing without his permission, every hackle he'd unintentionally raised at the idea of Damian running the night with Jason soothing over with those words. "Did Bruce know?"

"Of course he did. He knew the moment Jay picked up your mantle, the moment he walked out into the night as someone other than Red Hood. And he knew the restraint it took for his son to do such a thing... for his _fallen_ son to find himself again. And of all places... in someone else's shoes." Damian removed his tunic and Dick averted his eyes, finding the floor and holding his gaze there. "I think he knew what leaving was going to do to you, even when I did not, even when Father did not."

"And he did it for me... he found himself again... for me." Dick closed his eyes, reaching to pinch the bridge of his nose to quell the emotions raging inside of him. "While I nearly failed you all, he was trying to remember who he used to be."

"No," this time Damian's voice was soft, the no a gentle word instead of a hard-edge sword as he'd used it before. "He's never been this way before. The man I watched emerge from your world... he is stronger than any of us now, Dick. He is filled with ambition and grace, his abilities rival my Father's at long last... and his mind went from this clouded place to something far clearer. In a way, the thing that broke you, that brought you down further than you've ever been... it picked Jay up and gave him something new to hold onto."

Dick looked up finally, finding Damian in the new Robin suit, watching him, silent for the moment as they regarded one another. Moving around Damian, Dick gently touched accents on the suit, the golden color instead of yellow, the deep emerald green instead of the brightness of Robin's usual outfit, and the black in place of red. The clasps were gold instead of silver and even his belt was black now. The only red piece remaining on the entire uniform was the R on the left side of his tunic, the deep crimson not flashy, just blending into the darkness of the rest of the uniform. 

"To be fair... both Tim and Alfred know of this place now as well. Father... may, but we did not tell him."

Dick let his hand rest over Damian's shoulder, fingers perhaps tighter than necessary for the moment. "It's okay... I hope we can all trust one another now... that maybe this brought us all closer together than we used to be." He removed one glove and then reached for the fabric of Damian's cape, finding it to be lightweight, flexible Kevlar and he smiled at that, breathing out, "Finally useful..." before trailing the back of his hand down Damian's arm, feeling the shift of muscles beneath the suit. 

Damian's hand shifted, his fingers resting open, inviting, until Dick slid his hand into Damian's waiting grasp, their fingers entwining. "I could be yours again... your Robin."

Dick felt everything in him seize, the desire to have Damian back far too great to deny. Not tonight... not any night, if he were honest with himself. "And Bruce?" The words came out tentative, like he was risking the fragile house of cards they'd built in these few minutes simply by asking such a thing.

"Half a patrol with each of you. It is... a better plan than I had with Jay."

Dick nodded, turning more fully toward Damian, reaching to carefully remove the black mask. He placed it aside, letting go of Damian's hand to pick up one of his own Nightwing masks, gently placing it upon Damian's face, smoothing it down with intense care. His fingertips lingered, slowly tracing down over his cheekbones and across his jawline, their eyes locked on one another. 

Damian took a single step forward, his hands coming to rest on the front of Dick's suit, just over each side of the blue stripe across his chest. Another step and he eased himself against Dick's body, the action easy... relaxed. 

Dick knew what was happening even as it did, everything in the room speaking to the calmness he could feel descending down upon him. It wasn't what he'd expected it to be, but the moment Damian was there - pressed so closely against him that he could feel the heat of his body through their uniforms - he knew it was exactly what he _needed_. Tense muscles eased and the perpetual rolling stresses he kept housed inside his mind faded back, easing up on him in a way he hadn't felt since the night before his parent's deaths all those years ago. It felt like that breath of air right before he let go of the bar... and it felt like everything he'd been looking for all this time.

In some way, he'd expected sparks or undeniable passion, an ache and a want that he couldn't deny himself if he let something like this happen between them. But now... now he knew that wasn't the truth of it at all. Even with Damian pressed so close to him, he felt no particular need to engage in anything past this moment. In fact, it was something he'd never felt before; not with any other person on the planet. He let his palms come to rest on Damian's shoulders, feeling the difference in him as well, an answering call to every single cell in his own body. And he knew then, in that moment, that this went far deeper than love.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "The Space In Between" by How to Destroy Angels

Daylight streamed in through the partly covered window, dragging Dick out of his dreams and into reality. He eased himself onto his side and groaned faintly, reaching to wipe a hand over his eyes before he finally cracked them open. Dust moats floated through the room, lazily drifting through the beam of light falling across the sheets of the bed. 

Yawning, Dick shifted himself up onto his elbow and blinked the sleep from his eyes, reaching to wipe it away and then hesitating, his hand in the air, his eyes on the other person in his bed. Damian lay curled up on the edge of the bed, huddled beneath a single blanket and as far toward the edge of the bed as he could possibly have managed. His hair was a mess and his face was hidden away in the crook of his arm, but Dick could tell he was still soundly asleep. Which was... odd... at best. Damian usually woke at the drop of a hat, so much as a misplaced breath in a room rousing him from his sleep. But here he was, utterly and entirely dead to the world... and _in Dick's bed_.

Pulling himself upright, Dick sat in the midst of his covers, pondering how Damian had managed to get into his apartment, much less into his bedroom without him noticing. Granted, he'd had a few drinks at the bar last night, had even managed to pry two words from Tim's mouth at some point during the night, but he hadn't managed much more than that and it definitely hadn't been enough to get him drunk enough to not know someone was getting into his apartment.

Bemused, Dick considered that perhaps Damian had just grown that much better at his job in the past year. Or, maybe, Dick had gotten that much worse at his own. Either was entirely possible, though the latter made him cringe just the slightest. He'd have to ask Damian how he'd gotten in and then shore up his systems just that much more. But... for now... he simply sat, staring off past Damian toward the day just outside his window. The curtain shifted faintly and Dick's eyes flicked down to the edge of the fire escape, just barely visible under his window frame. Another shift of the breeze and Dick caught the faintest blur of color, _heard_ the flutter of a cape, and he was off over the bed and into the living room. He hit the alarm panel to disarm it and opened the balcony door, stepping outside and pulling it closed behind him. "Tim?"

There were a few moments in which Dick thought for sure Tim had left before he heard a soft shift of fabric and looked up as Tim launched himself off the balcony above him, landing easily on his own. He was in full costume and even as he crouched on Dick's porch, he breathed out a sigh. "Don't you think someone's going to wonder about all these superheroes visiting you?"

Dick's lips twitched in amusement before he shook his head. "No one here cares... they know their building is under a watchful eye and beyond that, no one ever questions. Besides, doesn't everyone know Dick Grayson is Nightwing now? It's pointless to hide."

Tim finally eased himself to his feet, letting his cape swirl around his ankles, lightly crossing his arms over his chest, reminding Dick of why he was so determined to come out here after Tim. A certain weight landed heavy on his chest and he shifted to hold onto the railing, breathing out a carefully steady breath. "Just to get it out there... in the open... I have no idea how he ended up in my apartment, much less my bed. I just didn't have the heart to wake him up."

"You don't have to defend yourself to me anymore." Tim turned, letting his hands rest on the railing instead of crossing his arms, choosing to stare off across Blüdhaven. "No one thinks you're doing anything wrong now... we get it... sort of. Or at least we understand the part where you care more about him than your own life. Which makes it hard to believe you'd do anything to put his well being in jeopardy."

"I wouldn't. I did once, by leaving... and I only did that-"

"-to save B... I know." Tim sighed, turning his head to study Dick. "Look, I'll be blunt here. I left you here last night and I know you were alone. I also know you didn't leave after you arrived here. And _he_ turned up missing about three in the morning... or at least that's when we noticed. He's gotten really good at sneaking out past all of B's security measures without turning them off." Tim leaned heavily on the railing and shook his head slightly. "I tracked him here, though it took a hell of a lot of doing. Really, I didn't expect him to come to you, but he did."

"Why'd B send you off after him instead of coming himself?"

Tim gave a half-hearted shrug. "Hell if I know. I just got the call and responded to it. Maybe... he thought he'd run less from me or something."

"Why would he be running from B to start with?"

The whisper of the door on the tracks answered Dick's question, Damian stepping out onto the porch behind him. "I am not running _from_ anyone." The key word rang in the air, clear enough for everyone to pick up on it and Dick watched the understanding dawn on Tim's face before he turned to look back out over the city beneath them. "Tell Father that I could not sleep, so I found somewhere I could."

"I already told him you were here..." Tim's voice was quiet, an edge to it that sounded like vague regret. "I didn't mean t-"

"I did not mean do not tell him where I am. I could not care less if he knows where I went to. It's the why I am more interested to impart upon all of you." Damian moved between Tim and Dick against the railing, easing himself just the faintest amount against Dick's side, still looking half asleep. "In the future... could you keep your conversation down? I was not ready to be awake."

Dick reached to run his hand over Damian's shoulder, feeling the soft cotton beneath his fingertips. "You're always welcome. And in the future, you don't need to take the edge of the bed like that. There was a whole other half... not to mention the fold out couch."

Dick could almost feel the hesitation in Damian before he quietly admitted, "The couch would not have worked." An instant later, he was gone, disappearing back through the door. 

Watching after him, Dick closed his eyes, realization settling over him. No words could have explained how he felt right then and he didn't even try to force any of them out, just shaking his head a little, a small crease of worry etching between his brows.

Tim's hand settled warm on his shoulder, squeezing before it left him. "I just want you to know we all trust you and your actions. I know we didn't before and that was a mistake. Even B can see it now, how much he means to you... how much it would kill you to bring harm to him in any way."

"It's not as figurative as you'd think." Dick's voice was achingly quiet. He opened his eyes, just staring into the glass door, seeing their reflections staring back.

"I didn't think it was." Tim turned away, two quick actions finding him perched on the railing, his balance neat enough that Dick found himself smiling a little over it. "You need one another... who are we to begrudge either of you what you deserve? Before... when I thought it was something else, when I couldn't see it as anything but dangerous... I only had your best interests at heart. I just couldn't see past the smoke screen and into the heart of it. Now... I do." He shifted enough to shoot his grapple off, letting it thunk into the building across the street. "As long as it's here that he's coming to, then none of us need worry." With that, he stepped off the edge, the line zipping up, Dick watching as Tim landed on the opposing rooftop and disappeared quickly into the glare of the sun.

Stepping back inside, Dick locked up the door and armed the alarm once again, heading to the bedroom and closing the window and then the curtain, making his way back to the bed and easing himself down beside Damian. After a moment's hesitation, he shifted close enough to feel his body heat, to hear his quiet breathing, and tugged the covers up over both of them.

A few moments passed before Damian's hand found Dick's own, twinning their fingers, squeezing lightly and then relaxing. Smiling into the semi-darkness, Dick breathed out, "You're always welcome here."

Damian's sleepy voice offered a gentle, "I know," before his breathing evened out, deepening... and Dick found himself more at ease than he had in a very long time.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song[s]: "The Space In Between" by How to Destroy Angels / "Falling Inside the Black" by Skillet

Some nights it felt like all Dick ever did was patrol, as if his entire life revolved around that... and only that. Tonight was one of those nights. Damian should have arrived to their official meet-up zone over an hour ago and when he hadn't shown after half an hour, Dick had given up and headed out on patrol himself. After all, it was their first night and even the best laid plans sometimes got utterly ruined at the insistence of Gotham's criminals. He hadn't been worried - and he still wasn't - it was just a minor inconvenience and he hadn't felt like disturbing anyone on the usual com frequency. And so, he'd simply taken off on the rest of his patrol.

Now, three hours later, he had settled at the very top of the highest building in Blüdhaven, crouched near the edge, his left arm resting across his thigh and his right helping support him on the ledge, most of his patrol done for the night. Every once in a while he shifted just the smallest amount, easing himself a degree or so to keep the muscles in his legs from seizing up. The night air was utterly still, not even a whisper of a breeze, making the cold air ever so slightly less chilling in the process. Of course his suit blocked most of that out, the comfort of the Nightwing suit far better than that of Black Angel's.

The faintest noise came from somewhere behind him and Dick closed his eyes, listening carefully, tracking the length of the quietest of footfalls, the faint flutter of a cape. "Robin..." He felt Damian's presence settle beside him on the ledge, the warmth of his body changing the air around him and bringing a smile to his lips.

"I was delayed by-"

"You don't have to explain. It's okay." Dick opened his eyes and turned his head to watch Damian for a moment before he looked back out over Blüdhaven. "I grew up in this life, just the same... I get it and I don't blame you for not coming on time." He let the barest hint of a smile touch his lips. "You're here now."

Damian was silent for a lengthy moment before offering, "I need official access to the garage if I am going to change mid-shift." He reached up to lightly touch the edge of his cape, fingers dancing slowly over the fabric before he let it go and leaned forward, peering down over the edge of the building toward the street below.

Dick watched him from the corner of his eye, a tender smile on his lips as he studied the way Damian stretched out to see over the side and the way he eased back as soon as he'd determined whatever it was he was looking for. "How did you find me?" He knew it would be simple, an answer that seemed like it should have been obvious, but he just couldn't puzzle it out how Damian would have known he'd be sitting up here right then. Blind luck? He doubted that very much. Damian just wasn't the sort to find things by chance; he never had been. Nearly every action was calculated, a million options gone over in order to find the answer and execute whatever needed to be done. It was just how his brain worked.

"You do not come here often, but when you do... it is to be in your own mind." Damian stood then, turning his back on Blüdhaven and looking back out toward Gotham, something pointed in his line of sight, something that drove Dick to stand up and turn back toward Gotham as well, his gaze curious as he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Damian, finding his visual point. When he found it his lips quirked up in the barest hint of a smile. Of course he'd been being watched over him. The very top of one of Damian's preferred perches near the edge of Gotham had a perfect line of sight to this building and-

-And suddenly everything seemed to fall into place. He realized this wasn't new, it wasn't something Damian had adopted doing in the past year or so. No, he'd been watching over Blüdhaven - or perhaps more accurately _Dick_ \- for a good long time. Because he'd known Damian had preferred that perch for years now; ever since they'd stopped being Batman and Robin. Dick's heart plunged for a moment and he almost felt sick, not having realized just how much Damian had needed him... how much he'd needed who they'd been when he'd given the cowl back to Bruce. 

This time it was he who turned his hand to offer it to Damian. Damian's gloved hand slipped into Dick's own, their fingers linking as they kept their eyes on Gotham for the time being, silence speaking more than words could have right then. Dick squeezed Damian's hand tightly, feeling the other's hand tighten in return, a surge of emotion going through him at the action.

Dick let his eyelids slip closed behind his mask as he just took in how it felt to stand beside Damian like this; how it felt to think of him as his equal, even out here on a night like this. A certain calmness slid over him and even as he breathed out, he could feel everything settling into place for the first time since he'd come back. _This_ was how it was meant to be; how things were supposed to come about between them.

"Do you feel it?" Damian's voice was softer than Dick was used to hearing it, an undertone to it that made his heart feel warm in a way he'd long-since suspected would never happen again in this life. But here he was, standing nearly on the boundary of Blüdhaven and Gotham, his heart soaring and his entire body singing with the perfection that a single person could bring into his life... and he couldn't have denied it if he'd wanted to. "I do." Maybe it was the simple answer, the easy way out of a conversation he could have dragged out into a thousand words without thought, but somehow this meant more. Just like this. 

"Promise me-" Damian's voice grew strained and he cut it off abruptly, his hand tightening hard around Dick's own.

Dick shifted then, refusing to do anything other than give in to everything he wanted in that moment. Pulling Damian against him, he pushed Damian's hood back and let his hands rest on his shoulders as he studied him. "I'd promise you the world if I could. But as she's not mine to give... I promise you what I can. I will not leave you again if at all possible. I will protect your life with my own if it comes to that. And I will let you into my life - all of it - without hesitation, without resistance."

Damian's adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed and with a quiet command, Damian's lenses went transparent, his fingers coming to touch the side of Dick's mask, disengaging his as well. Dick's fingertips tingled in a way that spoke of everything he wanted to do that he wouldn't dare to for at least another few months. It was so close, the date near enough he could have sworn he tasted it on the air. But a few months meant everything legally and while he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Damian had given his full consent a hell of a long time ago, he also knew what his own values dictated and what he would and would not feel guilty about later. Lifting his hands, he removed one glove and then reached to gently slide his thumb over Damian's lower lip, allowing this singular moment of his full affection to show through. "The hardest part of this for me is not showing you how much I care in all the ways I'm used to displaying affection."

Damian's hand came to hold Dick's wrist. He turned his head, eyelids falling closed as he pressed his lips against the palm of his hand for a moment. Letting go, he stepped down from the ledge and held out his hand to Dick. "Do not ever delude yourself into thinking it is any easier for me." 

Dick took his hand, stepping down and then releasing him to put his glove back on. The chill of the Blüdhaven air had started to permeate even his suit and he imagined it had something to do with all of the emotions swirling inside of him at the moment, or perhaps with the overabundance of warmth pooling low in his stomach. Affection was a dangerous beast, winding ever tighter in his gut. Even as he tamped it down, pushed it all back into the little box he'd been storing it up in deep inside of him, he couldn't help but feel like the time he was waiting on was too far away. A vast eternity stretching out before him, aching and yawning in a way he was nearly desperate to alleviate. "Promise me one thing."

"Anything." The word came without hesitation, without reserve.

"Don't ever stop being true to yourself." Out of all the things he could have chosen to say, this wasn't the one he had thought it would be; even as he opened his mouth and the words formed themselves. But once the words were out there, he felt a certain relief in them, an easing of a burden he hadn't known he'd been carrying.

"-tt-" Damian took a few steps and cut his gaze back over his shoulder for a moment before his lenses engaged again. "Foolish bird... I have never been anything but true to myself." There was the barest hint of a smile on his lips as he said it, a lilt to his voice that teased Dick, and he found himself nearly beaming at Damian's back as he followed him across the rooftop. Moments like these - this was what he lived for, what he desired more than anything else. If he could make Damian joke with him, smile just the smallest amount, then he was winning one of the most valuable things in the entire world and he'd never take it for granted.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song[s]: "Give In To Me" by Michael Jackson

"I'm sorry."

Dick stared at Tim across the rim of his glass for a moment before he lowered it to the counter between them, the solid thunk of it onto the laminate louder than intended. The look on Tim's face told him all he needed to know as to why he was apologizing and somehow it was harder this way. Knowing things should have already been healed between them, that it should have been clear than he'd forgiven Tim for all he'd done leading up to Dick's exile from the family. But if he was truthful to himself, he had continued to push Tim away and he'd definitely not been the friendly brotherly figure he'd once been since his return. There was still lingering disease between them, a gentle brand of something he couldn't quite call anger boiling in the depths of their utter lack of unity these days.

Shifting on his stool, he braced his arms on the counter top and leaned forward on them, allowing himself to openly study Tim as he breathed out a quiet sigh. "So I guess this is real talk then... isn't it?" Tim nodded, the action stiff and out of place. Dick pressed his lips tightly together, letting himself relax them an instant later. "I wish I could tell you I forgive you. I understand why you did what you did and I get why your reactions were so instant and violent." He paused, letting it sink in. "I just..." he shook his head the slightest amount, "I thought you knew me better than that, that's all. It's like a knife to the gut to think of what all you truly thought me capable of doing."

Across from him, Tim sagged against the table, his face a mask of pain now that he'd lowered all of his barriers toward Dick for the first time since that night in the manor. He looked somehow older, as if all of this had taken a physical toll on him rather than only an emotional one. And, perhaps, it had. After all, Dick didn't pry into what Tim did when he was off with the Titans and while he normally would have kept up with him to some extent - calls, emails, something - he'd let it all drop in the past few months. 

Anguish of another kind gripped him as he watched the pain that twisted its way across Tim's features. He'd _always_ been there for Tim; he'd been the one who pried it out of him when he needed to talk, who had talked him down on a few occasions. And the whole time he'd been gone - as much compassion as he'd carried - none of it had been for Tim. It slowly sank in, as he sat there watching Tim across from him, that he'd been more angry at him than he'd allowed himself to realize. His own bravado slipped away and he bowed his head, reaching to trace one of the many lines on the linoleum with a single digit. "I'm sorry, too. Sorry that I didn't understand why you let him send me away. Sorry that you saw what you did. Sorry that I was a selfish prick while I was gone and didn't even think of how it was going to affect you and how much you were giving up in the same breath... and all of it to save Damian."

Tim let out a strangled sound and stood up, pushing his stool back, the sound of it scraping across the floor only partly masking the sound he created. Their eyes met and Dick could see the first hint of emotional strain bursting just under Tim's control, so close to losing the battle against it. Tim took in a shaky breath, managing to get a few words out. "I need you as much as he does. Not the same way," his voice was barely a whisper, only just loud enough for Dick to hear him, "but I do."

Dick closed his eyes, his palm resting flat on the cool surface. "I'm here now... I don't know if that can heal anything anymore, but I'm here." The faintest flutter of fabric and Tim was at his side, his hand on Dick's bicep, squeezing hard. When Dick looked up, he found Tim facing away from him, his hand reached back to touch him, and he knew the battle was being lost, one that Tim didn't like to lose, especially in front of other people. He placed his hand over Tim's own on his shoulder, letting his hand squeeze in return. "Is it happening again?"

Tim nodded just the smallest amount and Dick could nearly picture the way his lips were sealed shut, the way his eyes were wide open, fighting to not let the tears come even though they were already swimming in his eyes. Looking back toward the counter, Dick let his free hand slide around his glass and pick it up, draining some of the liquid before placing it back down and sighing softly. "Shit, Tim... I'm so sorry."

"I-" Tim started and then cut himself off, his breathing barely even, obviously forced into the pattern it was in. When he finally started again, it was less strangled, a little more open. "Everyone around me keeps leaving... there's only so much I can take." Dick didn't say anything, he knew the drill. Once Tim opened up, he needed to let it all out and then Dick could comment if he wanted to. But, mostly, it was about saying it for Tim. "Mom and Dad... Conner... and, Jesus, all of you have left me at some point, some of you _twice_. I wish I could talk to Alfred the way you guys do... I wish like hell I could, but we never really got to that point, you know?" The question was rhetorical and Dick felt no particular need to do anything but nod. "There's no consistency in my life other than protecting all of you, other than being the damn rock most of the time. But you know what?" His voice grew in pitch, strained higher and more frantic. "Sometimes the damn rock needs one in his life, too! Sometimes the rock can't be his own and sometimes the one person he's ever been able to say it all to _isn't there_ and then he has no idea what the hell to do anymore!"

Dick's fingers gripped tight on Tim's against his shoulder, pain wrenching his gut as Tim's voice rose, as the frantic pitch of it displayed more pain than he'd honestly thought Tim had been going through with this. After a few seconds of careful deliberation, Dick turned in his seat and reached out, dragging Tim into his arms and shoving Tim's face down against his shoulder, holding onto the back of his head. "Tim..." he knew it wasn't his turn yet, wasn't his time to guide Tim back out of the pit he'd just thrown himself into, wasn't his time to catch his plummeting body before he broke on the rocks down below. Not yet... _not yet_.

Tim let out a sob, dissolving against Dick's chest, clinging to him harshly. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry I thought what I did of you. I'm sorry Bruce made you leave and I'm sorry I hurt Damian. I'm sorry I hurt _you_." 

Dick turned his head, pressing his nose against Tim's hair for a moment before he breathed out, "I know, baby bird." It'd been a long time since he'd called him that to his face, a long time since he'd felt it appropriate. But right then, it was the only affection he thought Tim would open himself to and the hitch of breath told him he'd been right. "I forgive you."

Tim let out a sound that broke Dick's heart even more and he fisted his hand in Tim's hair, holding on tight as Tim broke in his arms. It'd been years since it'd been this bad and Dick couldn't help but feel utterly responsible for what was happening. Rubbing tight circles on his back, he waited it out, just letting Tim get out this part of himself, letting him break in front of him so he could mend himself right back up. 

Nearly ten minutes went by before Tim pulled away and headed to the bathroom. When he emerged, he looked like maybe he was having some allergy issues, but not like he'd been broken and sobbing on Dick's shirt minutes before. He took his seat across from Dick, picking up his own glass and downing the rest of the contents before clearing his throat, the only signal he'd ever given Dick that he was ready to actually talk when this sort of thing happened.

"What was the last straw?" Dick had always asked it like this, had always known it was never about the last piece, but that plucking that string tended to make the rest start to fall into place for Tim. 

"Jumper... off Wayne Tower."

Dick winced, sucking in a bit of breath. Those sorts of things had never been anything but hell for Tim, always sending him spiraling back down into his own brand of hell. "Bad bad or just... sorta bad?"

"Sorta bad... I got there in time." Tim's seat creaked as he shifted his weight. "Talked him down. But... I just..." he cut off and shook his head, shrugging his shoulders a moment later.

"It made you start thinking." Dick eased himself up, picking up both of their glasses and moving to rinse them out in the sink. "Tim... thank you for coming to me even after everything. I'm glad you still know you can."

"You could hate me and you'd never turn me away. Your worst enemy could say they were in this sort of situation and you'd listen. It's just who you are." Tim's voice was quiet, laden with something more painful than Dick was willing to admit the longer he spoke.

Turning around, Dick let his wet hands drip on the floor as he met Tim's eyes and held them. "You are _not_ my enemy. You did what you thought was right for Damian. You protected him with everything you had in you and in a way, I admire that. You turned out your own protection, your own shoulder, just to save him from whatever you thought was going on."

"I'm not the one who kicked you out." Tim's voice was desperate now, his eyes full of hurt and confusion.

"I know you weren't, but you certainly didn't talk Bruce down from believing the worst of me. And I get it... I really do now. Am I hurt? Yes." He shrugged and turned back to the dishes, picking up a cloth and starting to scrub them clean. "Am I angry? ... Not anymore. But I was. Angry and hurt... and honestly, betrayed." He placed one glass on the counter and reached for the second one. "The things you all thought me capable of are atrocious and it _hurt_ that I wasn't being believed. I _love_ him, Tim... and not that fragile kind where it's fleeting and sparking. It's the sort that bares your soul, flays it raw in front of you, and screams in agony when you walk away. I went to some dark places while I was gone and I let some shit happen that the other me - the me before this - never would have let happen. I watched people die when I could have stopped it. I let certain aspects of human trafficking occur so I wouldn't get caught. And none of that used to be _me_. But it _is_ now."

The second glass went on the counter and Dick shut off the water, drying his hands and turning around to lean against the sink, studying Tim for a moment. "Now there is Black Angel and there is Nightwing and Robin and Agent 37 and Dick Grayson. And the thing is... I can't find it in this me to regret any of those decisions on the level I really should. I walked a line with Jay before I left, a line where I turned my back and let him take actions we couldn't. And now?" Dick shrugged and huffed out a humorless laugh. "Now I take those actions all by myself. Deep Ellum changed me. All those months and the hurt and the longing... it changed me. And I can't honestly say if it's for the better or not."

"One cannot create what wasn't there to start with. We paint a portrait using the colors and the canvas and the thoughts as they existed before, only as a culmination of those things in a singular place. People die because they are placed in a situation with all the pre-existing elements joining at the same time. A person, a gun, a bullet, another person, the desire to take life and to give it. All of those versions of you are just that. They are _you_. They always have been and always will be. It's the same for all of us, Dick. This person I am here, when we're alone, is no different than the one out there saving lives and fighting crime and he's no different from the kid I was in school or the one who lay bloody and beaten on the floor of my own bedroom at age seven, fighting back the tears while I was given the lies to cover it all up with. _I_ am Robin. I am Red Robin. I am Timothy Drake... and I _am_ your brother."

Tim stood then, shouldering his bag from the floor, and met Dick's gaze head-on. "I am all of these things and _you_ are all of yours. That's how life works. And in case you forgot it... you left one out, Dick." He was silent for a moment, going to the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. Turning back for an instant, his eyes burning with intensity, he caught Dick's eyes and held them. "You are family."

Dick watched him leave then, watched him until he was at the door and it was closing behind him before he breathed out, "So are you, Tim... you always will be."


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "A Modern Myth (Without Hidden Track)" by Thirty Seconds to Mars

Dick eased back into the shadows, everything about him utterly silent. Once he slipped away into the inky black of Blüdhaven's night, it was as if he never existed at all. The rain had smudged his makeup mask all the way down his face and the ash he'd fallen into earlier in the night did the rest for him, smudging him with even more of the darkness. He slid a hand over his shoulder, feeling the dampness of his suit, the telltale signs that he really needed to rein it in for the night. But he wasn't done; hadn't cut the path in the _scum_ just yet. And he wasn't about to let it go with only the two men he'd left strung up a few miles away, one of them choking on his own blood when Dick removed himself from the situation. 

Voices came from the entrance to the alleyway and Dick kept himself flattened where he was, his hair falling down to provide the shadows for his face, given the rest of him was pitch black in the Black Angel suit already. He counted to thirty and moved, one hand coming up and then unleashing a blade into the air, the glint of steel in the moonlight the only warning the two men had before one of them hit the ground hard, nothing but dead weight as he collapsed. Dick rolled out from his spot, rushing toward the other, a second blade in his hand, ready and willing to end this life as well.

He was two steps away the moment that the dull click and thunk of a suppressed gun went off and he dropped low out of pure instinct. The man he'd been about to gut dropped, falling partway onto his back, revealing the entry wound in his forehead. The sound of boots hitting the gravel behind him was his only real warning and he spun around, ready to fight for his life.

Jason stood behind him, slowly taking the silencer off of his gun, not even looking at Dick as he did it. Both pieces went into his holster and then Jay crossed his arms, staring at Dick with a cold expression on his face. "Get your blade. We're leaving." 

Dick stared at him as long as he dared, taking a step toward the other body and then kneeling down, wrenching out the blade, making sure to drag it a bit and leave the wound indistinct. Moving around the body, he pushed the blade into his hip pouch and then made the leap up onto the fire escape, hauling himself up and racing across the fire escape. He didn't stop until he was most of the way back to his own place. Only then did he sink back into the shadows, letting Jay catch up with him, though he took note of how leisurely Jason was moving.

Jay came to kneel next to Dick, his back against the wall. He shifted and removed his mask, settling it on the rooftop in front of him. Still, he didn't regard Dick at all, his eyes finding something far out in front of them to study, refusing to look anywhere near Dick. "So you've stepped over the line now." The way he put it, it was anything but a question and given what he'd just seen, Dick knew the truth was out there louder than if he'd said it with his own mouth.

"Do you know who they were?" The coldness in his own voice should have scared him, but this was one case in which it didn't.

"Enlighten me."

"You just killed one of them... and you don't know who they were?" Dick let a certain amount of incredulousness seep into his voice.

"If _you_ were ready to do it, it's good enough for me." Jay shrugged, fishing around in his pockets and finally pulling out a cigarette and casually flicking his lighter, taking a drag to light it up and pushing the lighter back into his jacket. Around the stick, he managed, "I mean, after all, _the_ Dick Grayson just found reason to be a stone cold killer tonight. It _had_ to be good, didn't it?" 

Dick sighed, sinking down to squat next to Jay, his hands shaking just the slightest amount as he reached to steady himself against the rooftop. "These men... they..." he felt the bile rising in his throat and he made a little sound as he choked it back, "with _children_ , Jay. Infants... small, helpless children." Dick made a sound that could have only been defined as enraged. "And they followed me! From Deep Ellum to Gotham to here! They're in _my_ land, doing the _worst_ thing I can think of and-"

"And they won't anymore." Jay stood up, moving to tower over Dick, looking down at him as he removed the cigarette from between his lips, holding it in his hand as he stared Dick dead in the face. "What had to be done was done. But _damn it_ , Dickie-bird..." his voice sounded strained suddenly, somehow more vulnerable than Dick was sure he'd ever heard it. "Let _me_ be the one to dole out those sentences. Tell me... hell, come with me like we have before. But this is _my_ burden, not yours. You're not a killer."

For a moment, Dick just closed his eyes, letting Jason's words sink in, letting his way of seeing it float in his mind. But the anger flared white-hot and he shook his head. "No... not on that one and not on anything that follows me like that. Those are my issues, my wounds to heal for all of the places I've been."

"You didn't make them what they are by ignoring them back then, you know that, right?" Jay lifted the cigarette and took a long drag before crouching, letting the smoke out as he leaned in, one hand on the wall by Dick's head, dangerously close to him, his next words breathed out. "You're the one who stops us from going too far. You can't play both sides of the line, my fine feathered areal friend. See... you're our reality check and right now... who is going to be yours?"

Dick met Jason's eyes, a certain determination shining in his own. "You are. I know your secrets, too, Jay-bird. I know all about how you took up my mantel and how you did it with everything you had in you. About how you _stopped_ -"

"Don't." Jason bowed his head, moving to take another drag from his cigarette. "Don't you dare try to take up my role in all of this just because I stopped killing while you were gone." His head snapped back up, his eyes fierce and the look on his face nearly angry. "I need you to be you. We need Nightwing and we need the man who deserved to be Batman while B was gone. And you know what else?" He paused for barely a second before spilling the rest of it out. "I said _we_ , damn it. Me and little bird and the tiny bat... hell, even B. We all need Dick MotherFucking Grayson, the man who did everything he could not to kill someone, who kept us all on the straight and narrow. We need the man who has never wavered from his convictions because he _knew_ we hinged on him."

In a rush, Jason stood up, throwing down his cigarette, the action speaking of anger, more so when he crushed it with his boot. "Do you want to know why I stepped up? Why I took on what I did, Dickie?" He waited only long enough for Dick to give a slight nod before he barged onward. "I did it because _you_ weren't here. Because someone had to and what got left in the midst of B's huge mistake was a hell of a broken-ass cluster fuck. Little bird hasn't been good since you left and you know why you came back for Dami. And damn it, it's not like B or I did much better. I don't know what to tell you except, I did what I could and it's _not_ who I am, Dick. It's... it's who _you_ are. Or at least who you _used_ to be." He picked up his helmet and turned away, facing back toward Gotham, a sigh on his lips. "So leave the killing to me... leave me where I was, because it's a weight I already bear and one I'll happily continue to as long as we all have to walk these lines. And this is the only time I'll ever do it, but I beg you... we need Dick Grayson... and we need Nightwing. Black Angel... he needs to retire. Tonight."

Jason pulled his helmet on and then he was gone, disappearing over the side of the building and into the darkness below just as the first drops of rain started to fall from the sky. Dick slowly stood up, his face a mask of hurt, of angry agony as he stared out over Gotham and then turned to look back at Blüdhaven. _His_ land... his to protect. But not his to slaughter. 

The heavy weight of realization and resignation slid onto his shoulders and he reached up, running his hands through the makeup remaining on his face. Tonight, right here, right on this rooftop, Black Angel was sentenced to his death. An honorable one, admittedly, but a death nonetheless.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "Anthem of the Angels" by Breaking Benjamin / "What Lies Beneath" by Breaking Benjamin

There was nothing but silence inside the old library. The scent of molding paper - the peculiar musk of books - came wafting through the vents as the heater kicked on. Leather creaked and metal groaned, the sounds providing more distraction than dis-ease. Sighing, Dick put his pen down on the counter top, pushing the form toward the librarian, waiting on her to fill in the proper information and then slide a plastic card into the card printer. A few terrible noises later and she extracted the plastic, handing it to Dick with a pleasant, "Have a great day reading, Mr. Grayson." Dick gave her his best smile and took the card, glancing over his information and then slipping it into his wallet and heading for the doors leading to the stairwell toward the second floor. 

He took the stairs two at a time and slid inside the air sealed vault for rare books. Most were not allowed to be checked out, though there were a rare few in the back sections that were under specific circumstances; one of which was a sheer amount of money. He'd found in all his years as Bruce's ward that some things had their advantages and money certainly did. The library card had been a formality, something he needed to ensure the ability to check out the book. But the money had allowed him the privileged use of the book; a donation in quantity enough to improve the entire library single-handedly. And, admittedly, money he'd gotten from Alfred for this very purpose.

Twenty minutes found the book carefully in his bag, wrapped in the special paper built to keep the book safe until it was to his destination, and an hour more found him at the steps of Wayne Manor, book in hand. The door opened as Dick mounted the last step and he looked up, expecting Alfred and instead finding Damian. He watched the light on Damian's face, the way his lips quirked just the slightest amount upward at the corners and the way he stood just a fraction taller than before. 

Stepping in past him, he turned and waited on the door to be shut. "Where's B?"

Damian blinked and then gave a nod toward the hallway. "Father is in his study."

Dick let his hand ghost over Damian's shoulder, the lightest of touches. "I shouldn't be overly long." It was hope at least, that perhaps they could have a moment after all was said and done with Bruce. But it wasn't a promise, just in case things went south. In a lot of ways it stung him to have to be so fragile with Damian still, but breaking promises seemed worse than simply not making them if he knew he might be thwarted in his attempts to keep them. 

To his credit, Damian didn't argue with him, simply accompanying him down the hallway to the door and then veering off to head toward the back doors. Tapping twice, Dick heard Bruce's permission to enter, and he opened the door. Making his way inside, he came to Bruce's desk, settling on the leather chair and watching him as he continued to scribble notations in his leather-bound records book. It was, presumably, something to do with Wayne Industries, though Dick had taken note that Damian was the one doing the most for the business these days and all with seeming ease, every piece of it seeming second nature and utterly unstressing, which Dick considered to be a feat in and of itself. 

Extracting the book from his bag, he settled it on his lap and waited patiently until Bruce was done, his pen getting recapped and his notebook closing. Once Bruce's glasses were on the table, Dick reached to place the package on the table. Knowing Bruce would know what it was already, he offered up, "It's only on loan from the main library, but with the amount we generously donated to them to take it, I can only assume it's a loan for as long as you wish to keep it."

The corner of Bruce's lips quirked up in a way that Dick couldn't help but notice was nearly identical to Damian's, something that made his own smile a bit easier in return. It was just the smallest thing, not a huge grin or even an actual smile, but coming from a Wayne, it meant big things and Dick had grown to accept that a long time ago. 

Bruce opened the package with care and extracted the book, carefully examining both front and back as well as the inner cover. "No Hero. Marquand. First Edition, 1935." Bruce picked up his glasses again, pushing them up onto his nose and studying the binding as well as the back cover and a single inscription from Marquand himself in the front of the book. “I'd place the value somewhere around ten thousand dollars, correct?"

"Twelve thousand five hundred when it was last appraised." Dick settled back, one leg crossing over the other, his arms easily perched on the armrests, his full attention on Bruce's reactions rather than on the book itself.

"I assume much more than that was given to cover the loan of this book?" There was no malice in Bruce's voice, only the even timbre of a man trying to make sure appropriate action had been taken.

"More than enough. The library should be undergoing an extensive face-lift soon, courtesy Wayne Industries."

Bruce carefully placed the book back down and settled back in his chair, his glasses going back on the table. Their eyes met and they simply regarded one another in silence for a period of time. When Bruce spoke up again, it was with something closer to Batman's voice than Bruce's own, the rough edges to it driving Dick closer to his inability to not reply to Bruce when he got like this. "Explain."

"I would have thought it to be obvious. I know you keep eyes on my territory and I know you wouldn't have missed what happened last night." Dick would have thought perhaps he'd feel the slightest amount of nerves here, but he felt nothing at all in that realm of things. Only the desire to get the truth out there, to force his own hand into being revealed, no matter how he had to do it.

"I have left the monitoring of your area in other hands as of late. Some things do reach my ears, but others are no so permeating as to arrive overnight."

"And some would be left better off unsaid. But I've never been one to run from my own truths and this is one I cannot turn my back on. Not now. Not ever." Dick's eyes flicked to the book. "No hero. I chose it for a very simple reason. There is no hidden meaning or elegant explanation. It is, simply, that I am no hero. Not last night and not since I left here that night. I have become something of a different breed, the kind I think we all saw potential of in every one of us." Bruce's sharp look gave him all he needed to force the truth out bluntly. "I have stepped over your biggest line. Last night, I joined Jason on the other side of it."

Bruce's voice cut him off, the sound of it clipped and ever so faintly strained. "If you did so, you have your reasons."

"I did and I still do. I stand by what I did and why I did it. But it does not change the fact that it happened or that I felt no particular remorse in my actions until I was forced to confront them in a less direct manner. Or perhaps more accurately, until I was shown what it meant for me to not have crossed that line and for me to never do it again." Dick reached out, his fingertips lightly touching the paper surrounding the book on Bruce's desk, his voice lower. "But I am no hero today, Bruce. Right here, right now, I am nothing more than a boy asking his father for forgiveness. Maybe not the one you might think I'm asking for either." Standing up, Dick placed his hands behind his back, his gaze meeting Bruce's own, finding curiosity and confusion written in Bruce's, something he wouldn't have expected to find there. "I ask for your forgiveness in being so blind to how my very presence - my existence as both Dick Grayson and as Nightwing - are needed by every one of us. I ask for forgiveness in having neglected a good lot more than myself since my return. I saw the situation as having damaged myself and Damian and in some more superficial way the rest of you. But I never took it to heart how much each of you needed me and how much you all gave up to protect Damian from what you saw as a threat. So I ask your forgiveness as a son would plead to his father for his own ignorance of a situation and with the promise to see beyond the end of my own nose from this point forward."

Bruce was silent for longer than Dick had thought he would be before he sighed, the leather of his seat creaking as he shifted forward, leaning heavily on the desk in front of him. "I understand the need for forgiveness and I concede to your plea for it. But perhaps it is not mine that you truly seek."

"I have already found it in the other places, despite not looking for it at all. They came to me, to show me what it was that they needed from me, what it was that my lack of being here stole from them. From you, I only need you to know that I understand the ways in which some part of this _was_ my fault; the things I should not have done, the things I should have explained instead of tried to ignore. And I need you to know, in short, how much I find myself responsible for that I have not once acknowledged in proper terms."

Bruce waited him out, the way his presence seemed to loom in the room telling Dick all he needed to know of the way Bruce was waiting on him to wrap it up so he could say his piece. Once he fell silent, Bruce spoke again, this time his voice much less Batman and entirely more Bruce Wayne. "I forgave you when I let you back into our lives. Damian forgave you the moment you returned to us of your own will and from what I can see, Tim did so sometime very recently. It is only Jason that I fear will have more difficulty in forgiving you than the rest of us."

Dick's shoulders squared and he lifted his head, determination radiating from him now. "I believe once he knows that Black Angel is dead he will find it in him to forgive me my transgressions in that regard."

Bruce very carefully shifted his light to peer at the cover of the book before he offered a quiet, "Will Black Angel suffer the same resurrections as the rest of us have?"

"There is no hole deep enough to disallow the possibility. I believe you know that as well as I do. But the circumstance will be a thousand times worse than last night before he would find himself out by the moonlight again."

Bruce turned off the light, plunging them into darkness. "I forgive you everything you need forgiveness for, Dick. I forgive you for the life you have taken, though it matters not that I do if you cannot forgive yourself. There has been a time, a place, in which I have come within a breadth of claiming another's life in the name of one righteous fury or another. Our anger can choose to make us stronger or it can choose to consume us. When you allow your hands to react in a way that deals death, you have allowed it to consume you. That lack of control is to be feared far more than the iron grip in which we have always ruled the night." 

The hint of the floorboard shifting under Dick's foot was his only indication that Bruce was behind him before he felt the weight of his hands on his shoulders. He leaned back into the weight of his hands, his eyelids fluttering closed for only a second at the touch. This one was gentle rather than violent, open instead of measured and controlled. This was the touch he remembered from a time so long ago and a touch he never thought he'd receive ever again. 

"We all place our trust in you to be the one who has always wanted to walk the straightest path. It was never that we assumed you couldn't veer off of it or that you would never desire to. It was only that, out of all of us, you let the anger go easier than we do. You have stepped over a line and your regret alone is tangible enough to allow me not to worry about your fate. When you came back from Deep Ellum, I could see the potential in you to move into that territory. But sometimes, for some people, it is best to visit the other side in order to comprehend it better. Your desire to find a taste of what Damian and Jason go through every day lead you to where you stood last night. And now you possess a knowledge even I cannot lay claim to; your hands know the feeling of claiming life rather than saving it. And now, Dick Grayson, it is up to you which side of the line you walk upon. And I trust that - whichever it is - it will be the right one for you."

Bruce's hands left his shoulders and a few aching seconds later, the light flipped back on and Bruce was seated in his chair, the book open his lap, as if he'd never left at all. Dick closed his eyes and let the tension ease from his body with the next breath. Opening them, he focused his determined gaze on Bruce himself. "I will never find myself anywhere but this side of it again, with a singular exception that I am sure you can find it in you to guess."

"Your competition for the life of the person who chooses to steal Damian from us again will be steep." 

Turning away, Dick picked up his bag, shouldering it and slowly making his way back toward the door. Pausing with one hand on the handle, he breathed out, "Perhaps you could find it in you to allow my hand raised in such a way to be more than enough to quell the rage within you in such a case. But I can only hope we never find such a thing to befall us again." The room felt colder to him now, his heart aching with something he honestly had no desire to continue dwelling on. Turning the doorknob, he opened the door. Without another word, he stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind himself.

With more confidence and with more than a little bit of an easier conscience, Dick headed toward the back door and the garden beyond, knowing exactly where he'd find the only other person who _really_ needed to know what he'd done; what lines he'd crossed, and the only person who could ease the feeling of the demon standing at his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have created an 8tracks playlist for this story. Here it is!  
> http://8tracks.com/cadkitten/behind-and-slightly-left


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: Asylum/Remnants by Disturbed (mixed together)

The gentle sound of crickets met Dick's ears as he stepped out into the garden. His feet crunched purposefully on the gravel as he made his way past the pond and around the edge of the rose bushes. A few more steps brought him around the edge of the high shrubs and brought the bench into view. Damian lay back on it, wrapped in the chocolate colored sweater Dick had noticed he'd been favoring on his days off. One foot rested flat on the stone, the other dangling off the side of the bench. His eyes were closed, but Dick knew he had been waiting on him. 

Coming to kneel beside the bench, Dick let his knees come to rest on the concrete riser surrounding the bench. As he did, thoughts of each of the past times he'd sat out here with Damian clouded his mind. He recalled the touch of Damian's hand against his own, the feeling of his knuckles against his lips as he'd pressed a gentle and loving kiss to the back of his hand, and he recalled the intensity of each of their moments together out here. His thoughts shifted then, a certain realization settling over him that most of their more intimate moments had been shared with the outside world, with the sky and the breeze and the remains of dormant life during the far colder months of Gotham. 

This time, Damian did not offer his hand and somewhere in the space of his thoughts, Dick came to realize the news he had to impart would be nothing new for him. There was reservation and there was a certain sadness already on the air that couldn't have been avoided even if he'd tried. Shifting his place, Dick eased himself to sit on the riser, the bench pressing to his lower back as he brought his knees up and rested his forearms on them, considering his words very carefully. 

Honesty seemed the best policy and aside from that, he thought that, perhaps, Damian might appreciate a certain amount of bluntness to the whole conversation. No diplomacy like he'd had to display with Bruce just to get through it without incident. But raw emotion wouldn't solve a single thing either. While everything in him screamed to defend himself first and admit later, he pushed past it, knowing he was stronger than that and that he held no reason to do such a thing in front of Damian. Perhaps with Tim, perhaps in another way, upon another day, but not right here and now with Damian. 

Tilting his head, he gazed up into the sky, watching the clouds shift with the wind, allowing his mind to drift until he found the proper moment and the proper words. Damian waited him out, not a single word being spoken until Dick finally chose his words. "Last night... I killed a man and I left another to die." He waited, having expected Damian to say something to him, but when he didn't, Dick simply breathed out a sigh and continued. "Jay saw me and when I went to kill the second one, he did it instead." His hands came together, fingers finding the single ring on his index finger and starting to twirl the smooth stone. "I have a hundred reasons why I did it, but somehow I don't think I need to defend myself to you. I..." his voice caught then, the emotion he'd been so carefully holding back pressing forward quicker than he'd expected it to. His fingers trembled just the slightest amount and he fought against the lump in his throat, swallowing several times against the flood of saliva in his mouth. Heat swept through him like a red-hot fire and he found his fists curled against it a second later.

Damian's hand came to rest on his back, pushing him forward as he breathed out, "Spread your legs or you'll regret it in about ten seconds, Grayson." The use of his surname was intentional, one that made him pay attention quicker, to act on reflex instead of thought. He spread his legs and Damian's hand pushed him forward. A few more seconds and the sweep of chills told him all he needed to know before he was gagging on the bile that rushed up into his mouth. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Dick realized he would never have let anyone else see this part of him; the part that found regret in the things he'd done or in the situations he'd been thrust into. Even a few months ago, he wouldn't have let Damian see him like this, he would have taken the signs for what they were and removed himself, tucked himself away in private and let this come out another way. 

A few minutes passed in which Dick simply tried to focus on breathing, on calming his body down from everything he'd been holding back. He dragged the sleeve of his shirt down and wiped across his mouth, wincing slightly at the action before he sat back, eyes closed, feeling Damian's warmth behind him now, a leg on either side of him. Both of his hands came to rest on Dick's shoulders and he let his head drop back against his chest. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Damian cut in so smoothly, Dick knew he'd been waiting on him to attempt to speak so that he could instead.

"This is normal for the first time. For the first _actual_ time." Damian's hand came to push through Dick's hair from the front, letting it glide through his fingers. "Causing someone's death is far different from taking it intentionally. Leaving someone to die is not the same as actively stealing their life from them in singular actions. It's not the same as letting them drop dead in front of you when you caused it." His hand drifted back to Dick's shoulder, settling and squeezing. "You have more people watching you than you think, you always have." It was Damian's way of telling him not to blame Jay for telling him, that he'd found out on his own... or that he was protecting Jason for whatever reason. Regardless of which it was, Dick wouldn't argue the point.

"I crossed the line while I was in Deep Ellum, too. But not... not like this." Dick took in a disjointed breath and forced it back out as smoothly as he could, the next one easier. "I always just walked away, let nature take its course. That... I could handle." He stopped there, opening his eyes and staring into the rose bush in front of himself to avoid looking down. 

"I am going to ask you a question and I want the actual answer, not the reasoning behind your actions. I do not want defensive replies or pleas for me to understand - I think you should know that I do, better than most. I only want to know the emotion and thoughts that drove you toward the actions you took." He paused for a moment, letting it sink in before he barely breathed out, "Why did you kill him?"

Dick shivered, suddenly achingly cold despite the unseasonable warmth of the day. The question sucked the warmth straight out of him, forcing him into deeper thought. "I thought..." he clenched his jaw, fighting against the wave of emotion he didn't want to deal with just yet. 

When he didn't speak again, Damian's hands tightened on his shoulders, his touch forceful, yanking Dick back to the present. "You thought if you were already seen as having crossed a line - a horrible one - then why not cross a real one instead? And what... you chose that over the lines you could have crossed with me?"

Dick choked out a sound and shook his head. "God no." He let his head rest back against Damian's chest again, letting it roll slightly side to side, his entire being a mask of sadness now; Damian's words cutting him deep. "It has nothing to do with that. I wanted to _understand_. And those men, the things they did... Jay wouldn't have hesitated to kill them for it. You would have wanted to. And I... God... with Jay on the other side of the line, I thought..." he choked up again, but pushed past it, forcing the words out anyway, "someone needed to take the place."

"Idiot." Damian released his harsh hold on Dick's shoulders, smoothing his palms over the area now. "Only you would find reason to kill a man because you thought you needed to understand the exact feeling and because you wanted to make up for one of us going straight." Damian moved then, sliding off the bench and holding out his hand to Dick, helping him stand up and avoid the mess he'd created. He kicked some gravel over it, letting go of Dick's hand and leading the way toward the pond. At the edge of it, he knelt and picked up a handful of stones. Standing back up, he shifted and pitched one out across the water, the rock skipping over the surface before finally plunking down into the darkness. "Dick, you never need to make up for us. We are not your responsibility. Yes, we need you and yes we were hell without you. But you do not have to follow behind us and make up for whatever course we've veered away from. You're..." Damian tossed another stone and then turned to Dick, holding out his palm to let Dick pick one of the stones for himself. "You're not built to be a murderer. Father saw to that a long time ago and if you believe anything else, you're only fooling yourself."

Taking one stone from Damian's hand, Dick took aim and threw it across the pond. It was anything but elegant, the stone making a loud plop and disappearing into the water with a little rain of water behind it. 

"Anger gets you nowhere." Damian took Dick's hand, placing another stone in his hand, adjusting his fingers over the stone until he was holding it correctly. It took Dick a moment to realize just how close Damian was to him. The instant he realized it, the tension eased from his body, just the closeness of his warmth and the gentle press of their barely touching bodies helped him in ways he did his best to forget in between the brief instances they happened. Damian moved just enough to show Dick the motion he needed for flicking the rock. His hand slid lightly up the length of Dick's arm and then he stepped back to the side, carefully duplicating his efforts in his own stance and then tossing the stone, letting it skid across the water nearly halfway across the pond before it sank. 

Dick steadied his breath and then replicated the action, watching as the stone skipped three times and plunked in. Not great, but already a vast improvement. A small smile touched his lips as he accepted another rock from Damian and repeated the process. 

Sometimes it was the simple things in life that eased the ache of the darker pieces of themselves. He loosed another stone across the water, letting himself relax as he watched it ride the water and then ease beneath it with a gentle plop. He let a small smile find his lips as one of the koi surfaced close to them, opening its big mouth and then sliding back under the water to swim away. Dick let himself take this moment, this feeling, and file it away along with so many others he'd generated with Damian over the years. One more piece to their puzzle and one more stepping stone across the waters of their life. And just one more thing he'd never forget.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "Kyuumin ~Oyasumi~ - 休眠-おやすみ-" by COЯE THE CHILD / "Yellow Pig" by Sakurai Atsushi

The night sky was unusually clear for the time of the year and had Dick been just a tad bit more sentimental, he would have thought it was trying to tell him something. The thought pushed a small smile onto his lips as he knelt on the crossbeam of the newest renovation in Blüdhaven. He could see Damian coming across the rooftops toward him in his new Robin costume. The smile grew for a moment before he pushed it back down, letting his gaze fall across the city instead. The sound of the grappling hook hitting the metal alerted him to the angle Damian was coming in at and he shifted just enough to offer a hand of assistance, knowing the awkwardness of landing on a single railing versus someplace to run off the extra energy the jumps caused. His other hand held tight to the beam beside him, hard enough the grips in his gloves engaged and nearly nothing could have thrown him off. 

Damian's hand hit his own and he gripped it with equal force, feeling the tug of the inertia wearing off before Robin settled at his left side. He didn't let go of his hand, though he did ease his grip, disengaging the extra force of his gloves. Damian made no move to extract his hand, even as they remained there, silent and regarding the city for what slowly began to feel like an eternity. It wasn't the sort that dragged onward, but the kind that made Dick never want to let go of it. 

It was only the flash of police lights below that made Dick let go to reach up and tap his com-line, shifting to the police scanner. "Robbery... they've got it under control; just a teen pushing her luck." Pushing himself up, he let his legs readjust to the positional shift before taking out his grapple gun. "Ready to fly?" Damian stood at his side and Dick waited until he had his hook out as well, waiting for a moment and letting himself freefall over the edge for a moment before shooting his gun toward the next closest rooftop. Damian's hook thunked in right next to his own and they both rode their lines onto the building, running off across it, nearly equal in speed. 

They didn't talk about direction or motivation and yet they were nearly perfectly in sync, Damian's reactions only a fraction of a second behind Dick's. By the time they hit the bridge, they were completely in line with one another, Damian predicting Dick's actions before he ever executed them. Even as they left the bridge, Damian having gone left and Dick going right, they lined up for the same structure and came down onto it within milliseconds of one another. They both rolled out and crouched and when Dick looked over, he found Damian watching him, his lenses disengaged, jade eyes piercing. 

Excitement skittered along Dick's nerves, his body instantly alight with the same fire Damian had been creating in him for months now. He let himself imagine the gentle taste of Damian's lips, the way it would feel if he simply took him in his arms and let his mouth press against all the right places. Damian's eyes took on another light and Dick knew their thoughts had aligned once again. The tiniest of smirks met his lips as he pushed himself up and pushed through the channels on his com, finally breathing out, "Hood? Busy?"

The line crackled and Jay's voice came over the line. "What trouble am I bailing out of tonight, pretty bird?"

Snorting, Dick moved to the edge of the building, feeling Damian's presence at his left side, even though he didn't look over to see him. If their costumes had been less he knew he could have felt the heat of his body from the closeness and the thought nearly sent a shiver through him. "She's quiet tonight... just thought we'd check in to see if yours was louder."

"She's screaming, birdie. Bad night. You offering?" The line crackled again and Dick heard a thump and then a curse before someone choked and Jay muttered, "And stay down, asshole."

"Yeah, I'm offering. Specifics or just... anywhere?"

"Anywhere's good. Surprised your little bat came to fly with you with how bad it is over here."

"Inbound in ten." Dick glanced at Damian and then nodded toward his garage before jumping down onto the fire escape and running across it, Damian right behind him. Most of their run turned into a form of parkour, lines being left out of it unless they couldn't make the jump without them. Finally they lighted on the building next to Dick's garage and they jumped to the ground, Damian opening the door. They made for the bike and Dick glanced at Damian. "You good in that suit while we're in Gotham?"

Damian just nodded, easing himself onto Dick's bike. Smirking, Dick slid on behind him and hit his com over to Damian's line. "Take us back to Gotham, Robin." He could feel the way the name affected Damian, the slight shift of his body before he brought the bike to life and hit the gas, speeding them out of the garage, the door sliding shut behind them. 

Dick held on tight to Damian's waist, hunched low and pressed against him, his pulse fighting a frantic staccato. For the most part, he'd kept this portion of himself at bay with Damian, had kept telling himself whatever lies he needed to hear in order to stop it from happening. But now, like this, he was hard-pressed to keep up with the array of false truths it tended to take. There was no distraction of driving the bike, nothing to keep him from actually feeling the way Damian's body shifted in his arms or the way he was so perfectly sculpted to be in this position with him. The thoughts came in unbidden, clouding his mind and his judgment until Damian's voice came across the line, smooth and with a certain darkness to it that caught Dick's attention quicker than anything.

"Get out of your own head." There was nothing more to it, no more explanation, but it was enough to let Dick know Damian was on to him. He wasn't physically reacting to his thoughts yet and for that much, he was thankful. But the shame of what he'd been thinking about hit him harder than he expected it to. The wind whipped at them viciously and he bowed his head against it, trying to concentrate on his breathing instead of on the guilt that ate at his insides in a way that made him nearly instantly queasy. 

The bike sped up and Damian took a corner a bit faster than was necessary, but everything compensated for it. A moment later, Damian pulled up beside the Batmobile and killed the engine. He slid off without warning and a second later was up on the roof of the building to their right. Dick followed after a moment's hesitation, pulling himself firmly out of his own mind and back into the present. His feet touched the gravel and he heard a gruff, "Incoming," before someone was stumbling back toward him. He caught the guy across the back and swept his feet out from under him, bringing him down hard. Falling with him on purpose, he rolled them so he was on top, one elbow knocking the man out cold before he was back up and rushing into the midst of the fight. 

Clearly Damian had heard something he hadn't, had known something Dick didn't, and for the first time, he wondered if he kept two coms when he was out, one of them running on silent for when he left one place or the other. It explained a lot about how much Damian seemed to know and now that Dick thought about it, it seemed ultimately reasonable that he'd want to do such a thing.

The thoughts were ripped from him as two more people landed on the rooftop and Dick instantly identified the armor. Anger flared hot and he darted behind the air conditioning unit, waiting until one of the men came in front of him and he lashed out, one strike to the back of the man's neck, an arm wrenched sideways. He felt the sting of a blade sinking into his side and he hissed as he spun the man right into the side of the metal unit, feeling his weight go down heavy. One touch to his side told him the blade had come out with the guy's fall and he threw himself at the next set of incoming, patching his com to Jason's line. "Hood! It's becoming a situation over here. Tell me Red's in town."

A muffled curse came across the line as Dick took down another man, two more coming up over the side of the building. For every one he was dropping, two more seemed to come up and that didn't make good odds for them. Pulling his escrima sticks from their holsters, he spun on the next attacker, blocking their blade with a clang of metal. Two more clashes and Tim's voice came across the line. "You're in luck and I'm not alone. Inbound, ETA two and a half minutes, aerial."

"Glad to hear it!" Dick stumbled hard into the side of the unit as someone hit him from behind. Turning, he lashed out against two attackers, a third coming toward him, only to be taken down by Damian before he had to duck his own attacker. Dick fought them hard, but the two blocked most of his hits and definitely managed to land more than he got in on them. 

Something red flashed in the corner of his eye and something yellow ripped one of the guys backwards and over the side of the building. Dick ducked the next hit from his remaining opponent, the two of them working their way across the rooftop, blow for blow until Dick caught another wisp of red and then a loud crack resounded and the guy dropped like a brick. Tim stood on the other side of the crumpled figure, his staff raised and his stance radiating just how prepared he'd been for this fight. A twirl and a flick and another man went down behind him without Tim ever turning to see the guy.

Dick arched an eyebrow, but crouched to tie up the guy under Tim's guard, moving to the second to do the same, and then rolling out of the way of another oncoming attack. A batarang clanked into the AC unit and started beeping. Dick and Tim glanced at one another and then made the run for the other end of the building, Damian and Bruce already ahead of them. Yellow zipped past them again and even as Dick made the jump from one building to the next, he asked, "Kid Flash?"

Tim rolled onto the opposite roof with him, the rooftop behind them going up with a boom. Dick came up into a crouch, his hand going to his side, which was now searing agony. This time he felt a presence beside him that was nothing like Damian's and he glanced to the side, finding Bart kneeling there as well, watching as Bruce, Tim, and Damian took down a few who attempted to leave the rooftop.

Dick started to stand up, but Bart's hand pushed down on his shoulder and he was off in a flash, zipping across to the other rooftop. Amongst the confusion, the other three took down people as Kid Flash tied them up and dropped them off on the ground between the buildings. Dick made the call to the authorities, reporting both the explosion and the tied up foes.

He winced, shifting and pulling off his glove, reaching to run his hand over his side and coming away with it sopping wet with blood. It'd obviously hit something deeper than he'd initially thought and he'd only made it worse by continuing to fight with it open and bleeding out. 

Easing himself back against the lip of the wall, he took stock of himself. His breathing was rapid, his pulse skittering wildly, and the amount of his side and thigh that felt slick with blood wasn't a good sign for how much he'd lost so far. He hit the com until he was back to the one he shared with Damian out on patrol and breathed out, "Robin, when you get a chance..."

The fire escape rattled and a second later Damian was crouching next to him, pulling his hand away from the wound. A little bit of digging in his pouch and some field dressing was shoved against it, Damian pressing his hand back in place. "You have five in you?" Dick nodded and Damian was gone again, vaulting over the ledge. He could hear the intensity of Damian's fighting now, the com left open and forgotten as he took down more people. Every once in a while, Dick took stock of Bart's yellow costume as he zipped past, presumably checking up on him and keeping his area enemy free. 

A few more minutes and just as he started feeling light-headed Batman landed hard in front of him, keeling down and scooping him up. He could tell it wasn't as easy as it had once been for Bruce to pick him up, but he had to admit, he wasn't exactly failing at still moving rapidly with him in his arms. Before he knew it, he was in the Batmobile and they were zipping through Gotham, Bruce already barking orders at Alfred as to Dick's condition and what to have waiting for him.

By the time they hit the passage to the Batcave, Dick could feel his consciousness waning, the frail edges of darkness trying to take over. His heart had slowed, all the adrenaline gone from earlier, and now everything felt like fire in his side. They pulled in and the door opened. The last thing he saw was Alfred's hand and the last thing he felt was the sting of whatever injectable they'd seen fit to use on him today. Darkness swallowed him up and Dick let it without a fight, unafraid of where he was or whose hands he was in now that he was home.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "Powerful" by Major Lazer / "End of Time" Lacuna Coil

Dick woke with a gasp of breath and the searing agony of alcohol over his wound. Hissing, he stilled, reminding himself where he was at. Panting a bit, he rolled his head to the side, finding Alfred patting his wound dry, the uncapped bottle of wound wash off to the side and bloody liquid dotting the floor beneath them. Still a little dazed, he turned his head to the side, finding Jason sitting in the chair next to him, his sleeve rolled up and his blood flowing into a bag. From another bag that looked as if it'd never been quite full, he noted his own IV was attached.

Sighing, he eased himself back and wet his lips, clearing his throat and then offering a quiet, "So... we share a type then." 

Jay's voice was smooth and soothing when he spoke, something about it telling Dick more than the words themselves did. "Universal donor, Dickie-bird. But yeah, you usually get patched up with good ol' Jay-bird juice." He paused a moment later, making a face before looking down at the IV. "Not like that."

Dick snorted, lolling his head back to look up at the ceiling, focusing on assessing the rest of his physical situation. He was bruised up and one rib hurt a hell of a lot but it wasn't anything that needed attention. He knew the difference by now between broken and bruised, between deadly and grit-your-teeth-and-bear-it levels of pain. "Thanks... you know... for the donation." Almost as an afterthought. "And the, uh... rest."

Alfred finished bandaging Dick up and went to check on both of their IV lines before telling Jason five more minutes and leaving the room, an exit of grace in the face of a conversation he probably didn't want to be an active part of. "I should be telling you thank you for coming back in to Gotham when you didn't have to." There was something under Jason's voice that put Dick nearly instantly on edge and he turned his head to watch him again.

"She's as much mine as she used to be. That part didn't change just because I took another city under my wing."

"But she's not your responsibility."

The shadows shifted and Damian stepped out from the corner of the room, coming to stand between the chair and the bed, his hand resting on the edge of the sheets. "Argument here solves nothing. We helped because it was the right thing to do. Just as you are now." Damian's gaze fell on the IV as if to prove his point. 

Dick met Jason's eyes, offering a small shrug before rolling onto his back and letting his eyelids fall closed. "Any idea why they were that active tonight?"

Footsteps and then Bruce's voice filled the room. "I walked into the midst of a takedown. The winner followed me out and the rest intercepted. Why they thought they needed so many for one man-"

Jason's impatient voice interrupted. "Why do you think, Bruce? I mean, c'mon. We just took them all down, right? They had to know they weren't just up against you."

Dick let his eyelids barely open, regarding all of the men in the room, watching Damian and Bruce exchange a glance before Damian offered a quiet, "They waited until I was gone."

Dick finally spoke up, cutting in before anyone else could. "Maybe the half-nights aren't a good plan. It leaves both of us vulnerable for half the night when someone knows where the other half of each duo is going to be."

"Random nights." Tim's voice joined in, surprising Dick since it was behind him and he hadn't sensed him coming in. He really had to get himself back in the ballgame if members of his own family were sneaking up on him. Sighing, he turned his head to peer up at Tim, who stood behind his bed, arms crossed, still in full costume. "Don't do the same ones any week, it'll toss everything up. It's the only viable solution without cutting off one or the other."

Dick chanced looking back at Damian, finding his jaw clenched hard and his hand gripping the sheet a bit more harshly than he'd have liked to see. But he understood the frustration of having things decided for them rather than letting them work it out. On the other hand, they'd made the first decision and it clearly hadn't worked out so well for them tonight. He reached to ghost his fingertips over Damian's hand, watching the tension ease from him at the action. The ghost of a smile met his lips. "I think it'll work that way for now... Damian?"

The use of his full name drew a curious look from Damian before he turned back to the family and gave a single nod. 

Jason carefully went about removing his IV and then stood up, rolling his sleeve back down and picking up his jacket. "If you'll all excuse me... it's getting a little tight in here." Dick watched as Jason stepped past Bruce, watching the subtle sleight of hand as they passed something off between them, Jay moving to fasten his jacket as he walked past. 

Curiosity ate at Dick, but he also knew it was none of his business, just as a good many things were not any of Bruce's or Jason's. Something beeped and Alfred entered the room, moving to unfasten the IV from Dick's arm, wrapping a self-adhesive bandage on his arm and leaning down. "How do you feel, Master Dick? Dizzy?"

Dick shifted slightly to test it and then shook his head. "Not dizzy."

"I would like to request you stay the night here, if you would see fit."

Dick gave Alfred a nod and then eased himself into a sitting position, carefully stepping down from the bed. Damian shifted closer to him in a way that made it look incidental, but Dick was sure everyone in the room knew it wasn't in the slightest. He placed one hand on his shoulder, squeezing a bit before he skirted past him as well. "I'm going to shower."

"Master Dick, if-" 

Dick waved his hand toward Alfred. "No getting it wet, I know. Trust me on this one." He gave Alfred a fond smile, stepping past Bruce as well and out into the cave. He could feel Damian's presence behind him the whole way up the stairs and once they were in the study, Dick murmured, "Just us?"

He could sense the hesitation before Damian offered a quiet, "Yes."

"Little off my game right now." Dick headed for the door, going to the stairs and taking them to the second floor landing where he paused, letting out a small huff of a laugh. "I don't have anything left here to change into."

Damian's hand came to glide over his bicep as he passed him by. "I have some clothing you may borrow tonight." Dick could almost sense the remaining words Damian wanted to say, the other pieces of the conversation that didn't happen. 

"Leave them on the counter for me?" At Damian's nod, Dick made his way down the hall to the bathroom. Stepping inside, he closed the door and stripped out of his suit - or what remained of it - and examined himself in the mirror. Sighing, he looked away, turning on the water reaching for the mouthwash, rinsing out his mouth a few times with it before he opened the top drawer, extracting the thick plastic, scissors, and tape. Cutting off a chunk of it, he plastered it to his side around the wound using the medical tape. He shoved the supplies back in the drawer and unwound the wrap from his arm, ditching it in the trash. A moment more and he was in the shower, reaching for a bar of soap.

The door clicked open and he listened as Damian left clothing on the counter for him, but he didn't hear him leave. He gave it a minute before he murmured, "It's probably best no one catch you in here..."

The slide of material against wood told Dick that Damian had chosen to sit on the counter top. "I am not doing anything wrong."

"Somehow, I don't think it's you that they're worried about." Dick shifted, lathering up the soap across his body, suddenly glad Alfred had installed the double shower curtains in all the bathrooms instead of the old glass doors they'd once had. 

"They should not worry about you." Damian's voice sounded bitter now, an angry undertone to it. "You have done nothing wrong."

Dick hesitated, pausing before he carefully moved to wash his legs. "I did once... one bad move and everything's seen through those glasses when it comes to a subject like this." 

"What is it you think you did wrong?" Again Dick heard Damian shift and he imagined him sitting cross-legged on the counter top and his mind drifted to the image of Alfred's irritation over rear-ends on his counters.

"After the first time you... uh," Dick paused, struggling with if he was going to be blunt or not and when Damian didn't come to his rescue, he muttered, "well... after that time, I may have failed at controlling myself."

There was a tense moment and then Damian's distinct, "-tt-," echoed in the bathroom. "You act like this is the end of the world. Is it not a lesser offense than my own? You did not do so in front of me."

The very indignant tone of Damian's response left Dick with a slight smile on his lips. Somehow, he hadn't expected those to be the words he'd hear in response to his own. But now he could think of no other way this conversation could have gone. "And the fact that I almost did so twice?"

Silence prevailed for nearly a minute before Damian's voice came to him again. "Without me pushing at you that way... would you have ever let your mind go to those places?"

"No." The response was immediate and direct, his guilt forcing him to spit the word out in some form of desperate plea to let him off the hook easier for his transgressions. "Not... so soon."

"Explain." Damian's voice was oddly patient, a direct converse of what Dick would have thought it would be in this sort of situation.

"The way I feel about you... it would have come to fruition soon enough, your actions only pushed the timeline forward." Dick finished rinsing himself off and grasped the shampoo bottle, pouring some into his hand and lathering it up. "It made me realize my emotions for what they were and, if for no other reason, I cannot find regret in any of your actions, Dami... trust me on that. I regret having reacted the way I did physically and having been pulled away from you for so long. But I do _not_ regret a thing about where we are now."

"Then..." the quiet tone of Damian's voice made him harder to hear over the water, but Dick turned his head to listen carefully, barely catching the rest, "I do not regret anything I have done."

"You did before?" Sadness found its way in and Dick reached to wash his hands of the shampoo, waiting to step into the spray and rid his hair of the lather. 

"It got you sent away from me. What do you think?" This time there was anger under Damian's voice, a clipped tone that spoke a million words in the fragile few he used.

"Dami..." Dick turned to look at the shower curtain, biting back a certain anguish at not being able to hold him now, knowing the pain of such anger all too well. "I never regretted your actions. Not once. Only my own."

"Then we were in agreement, as I only regretted my own. But do not get me wrong," the sound of Damian moving off the counter met Dick's ears and he chanced washing his hair out, a certain understanding that he might be going after the kid in a moment sinking in. "I will no longer find remorse in what I did, as you should not in your own. Every corner we have taken, every wrong turn or right, has led us here, has it not?"

Dick slicked the water from his hair and reached to turn off the shower. A towel flopped over the top of the rail and Dick tugged it down, quickly wiping his face and hair with it, speaking muffled through the towel. "It has." He let himself smile as he lowered the towel. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Tonight... or really any night... when I call you Robin," he cleared his throat before spitting out the rest, "it does something to you, doesn't it?"

The smallest of laughs left Damian, the reaction simultaneously relieved and surprised. "Yeah, Dick, it does." The door opened, though no footsteps came. "It's your choice where you sleep tonight, but I promise you, I will not cross any lines if you choose the one I offered." 

The door closed and Dick moved the curtain, stepping out onto the rug. Two steps and he leaned over the counter, reaching to smudge a hand across the mirror, looking himself in the eyes for a moment before it started to fog back up. "It's all shades of gray now, isn't it?"


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "Nothing's Fair In Love and War" by Three Days Grace

The clothing Damian had left on the counter all belonged to him, all smelled like _him_. Even as Dick pulled on the shirt, he couldn't help but push his nose against the fabric, inhaling Damian's scent. Heaving out a sigh, he carefully ditched the plastic from his wound cover into the trash bin, closing the cabinet back and running a hand through his hair again, trying to get it to behave at least a little bit without the help of anything else. The slightest amount of stubble dotted his jawline and he knew there was nothing he could do about that either.

Tossing the towel over his shoulder, he padded out of the bathroom and down the short hallway. He paused in front of Damian's room, hesitating, and then continued to the stairs, carefully descending to the first floor. Pausing in the laundry room, he ditched the towel in the bin and then turned around, making his way back toward the study. Voices stopped him and he paused, waiting just far enough away his presence shouldn't have been sensed yet. He could only hear snippets of the conversation, but it was enough to get the gist. 

"-trust in them." That was definitely Tim's voice, something about it holding a somewhat irritable edge to it, but only enough to get his point across, not enough to put anyone on edge.

The indistinct rumble of Bruce's voice responded and Dick caught nothing of it. Part of him wanted to move closer, wanted to hear more of the conversation, but he knew if he did, he'd be found out for sure. 

"He's seventeen..." the silence drew out between them and finally, Dick heard the clink of a glass being put down. "He's got things to work out, Bruce. You can't keep him from doing what he wants sometimes."

Dick drooped a little, realizing this was probably the last conversation he wanted to be overhearing, but knowing - at the same time - it was probably best that he was. He backtracked a bit and then closed the laundry room door, coming toward the study without pausing his steps. 

Bruce's voice was easier to hear this time. "-trust Dick."

Dick pushed the study door fully open and stepped inside. "Trust me about what?"

Tim looked up at him, a small frown on his lips. Sighing, he eased himself against the edge of Bruce's desk. When Bruce didn't say anything, Tim finally offered a quiet, "We were discussing your private life again. Seems to be that way all the time doesn't it?"

Dick shrugged, pushing the door closed and coming to stand at the edge of the desk, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. "It does, but I think I'm getting used to it. May not be a good thing, but it's the truth at least. What are you worried I'm going to do this time?"

Bruce's voice came out exasperated when he spoke up. "Not you we're worried about."

"Funny, could have sworn I heard my name."

"Yes. I said that I guess we're just going to have to trust you." Dick met Bruce's eyes head-on, keeping their gazes locked for a long while before Bruce continued. "I made a mistake last time, in believing I couldn't trust you. How many more times do you need to hear it?"

"Until you stop discussing mine and Damian's private life like it's any of your business. I gave you my word I wouldn't do anything illegal and I won't. If you don't trust me then I'm sure you'd like to figure out how quickly Damian's going to follow me if you decide to toss me out again." He knew he sounded bitter and that his words were absurdly cutting. But he honestly couldn't keep the anger down after all that had been done to him in the past year or so. 

Dick watched the tick in Bruce's jaw, glancing toward Tim, finding a rueful look on his face, sadness in his gaze. Dick couldn't help the hand he reached out to press against Tim's shoulder for the briefest of contact, aching to give him some form of affection for the words he'd heard in Damian's defense earlier. "If you all think you can trust me... I'm going to bed." He gave an adequate pause and then, "I'm sleeping in Damian's room. And if you have a single question as to why, here's the deal, plain and simple. He-"

Tim cut him off, offering a quiet, "He sleeps better when Dick's there. When he snuck out... I told you he went to Dick's, but I didn't tell you he was curled up on the foot of his bed, as far away from touching him as he could be. But he was out cold. And you know as well as I do that he _doesn't_ sleep like that."

Dick let his hand slide off of Tim's shoulder, watching Bruce. A certain resignation appeared on his face as he heard the truth from someone besides Dick. He gave a small, curt nod. "Then we will just have to trust you both."

Shaking his head, Dick turned away, heading for the door. "You'd think if you trusted me with your life all this time, you could trust me with your son."

"Prove it to me and I will give you my trust."

Dick spun back around and pinned Bruce with his best impression of Damian's death-glare. "I proved it to you a thousand times. I proved it to you when I didn't go forward with any amount of feelings. I proved it when I _left_ and I left your son with you instead of taking him with me. I proved it every single night I took a hit or a bullet for you or for him - for _any_ of you. And I prove it every single day in the way I _love_ him. If that's not proof enough for you, then you can just take it and shove it down your hostile-ass throat!" He turned back to the door and then spit out, "Or maybe you'd rather sit on it and fuckin' spin, Bruce." 

He yanked open the door and took a step into the hallway before he heard a very quiet, "Wait."

Turning his head, he watched Bruce, silent and more than a little hot under the collar.

"When it comes to Damian... I am over-protective. I respond before I think about why I'm responding the ways that I do. My rationality may not be playing an active part in anything that has to do with him and I think we all know why that is." Dick could hear the regret in Bruce's tone, the way he had to force the words out, but was doing it anyway.

Closing his eyes, Dick turned his head back toward the hallway, letting some of the anger drain from his body. "Just lay off, okay? I'm tired of both of us being treated like we're something to whisper about in private conversations that don't involve us. If you want to know what we're doing - or not - I request that you _ask_ , not make assumptions. I want the same respect in this that I've given you every time you've ever been with someone. That's it. That's all I want." Opening his eyes, he flicked his gaze between Bruce and Tim. "Can we all agree on that?"

Tim nodded immediately, as did Bruce, though it took him a while longer to actually do so. "Then do not lie to me about anything that happens."

"Trust me, that's the last thing I want to do here." Dick shook his head and let go of the doorknob, stepping into the hallway. "I'm going to bed and, seriously, don't disturb me until it's been a minimum of nine hours of sleep." Trudging back toward Damian's room, Dick let himself relax just the smallest amount. At the top of the landing, he found Damian crouched in the darkness at the corner of the staircase. He paused, offering his hand, and an instant later, the warm press of Damian's skin against his own filled his being. 

Stepping into the bedroom, Dick let Damian close the door and turn off the lights, then lead him across the room to the bed. When he was pushed toward it, he crawled in and rolled toward the wall, settling an inch or so from it. The bed dipped and Damian slid in, pulling covers up around them. There were about thirty seconds in which Dick was sure Damian was about to say something before he heard a little huff of breath. An instant later, his side grew warm with the feeling of Damian pressed up against him. 

Looping his arm around Damian, Dick closed his eyes and eased himself closer to relaxation, a soft smile on his lips. "Sleep well." Damian's little mumble was his only reply and as Dick let his mind drift, he slowly began to realize just how much easier having Damian at his side made it to relax. Some things - some trust - just went far further than others, and he was grateful that it was his and Damian's that ran deepest.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "Gasoline" by Halsey

People... people everywhere. Dick pushed through the crowd, wincing as he side-stepped another drunk passerby who seemed nearly intent to plow into everyone in their way. He wasn't in uniform tonight, but he was on duty. Undercover this time; but not nearly so deep as he'd been the past few times he'd done such a mission for Bruce. And this time, he wasn't the only one. Somewhere out here tonight, Jason was canvasing the area. Tim was back with the Titans and Damian was on reserve, waiting if they had to take someone down tonight. And Bruce... Bruce was out on the docks, smashing the other half of this operation to pieces, presumably.

Dick finally found the little Oriental trading store he was looking for, stepping up to the door and pressing the buzzer to unlock it. The lock clicked and he pulled open the door, stepping inside. Everything was crowded into the shop, rows and rows of boxes and figures. The whole was heavy with the thick perfume of incense and rosewood. He eased between the shelves, heading straight to the beaded curtain in the back, proclaiming adult novelties. Pushing through the curtain, he paused in the darkened light of the blacklight-lit room, letting his eyes adjust before he made his way to the back wall and found an old VHS tape of a pornography no one would even think twice about lingering on with a room full of DVDs and Blu-rays to choose from. 

Sliding the tape out of the case, he popped open the tape, snagging the packet of pills from inside of it and fishing out a roll of bills to place in it instead. He closed it and pocketed the drugs, pushing the tape back into its box and settling it back on the shelf. Three movies to the left, he picked up another movie, one he was required to purchase as a show of why he was in here. It had to be very specific, to let them know to check the box and ensure he'd placed the right amount of money in the box. 

Turning away, he moved back through the curtain and toward the desk up front. Settling the movie down on the glass, he watched the owner palm a button under the counter in a way that looked more like he was scratching an itch under the opaque countertop if he hadn't been looking for it. The guy looked bored as he shifted the movie over and turned it to check the price, ringing it up. "Anything else?"

Dick pulled a packet of rose gum from the shelf next to him, sliding it onto the counter and tapping it once. He didn't speak, knew better than to give them anything to run voice recognition on if they figured out he wasn't supposed to be the buyer tonight.

A little green light next to the register flipped on and the guy got a move on, ringing up the gum and then gesturing to the total on the register's read-out. 

Dick extracted a single bill from his pocket, laying it on the counter and waiting on his change. Once he received it, he pushed the money into the little box asking for donations for a cancer patient. Picking up his gum and DVD, he tucked them into his jacket's inner pocket and left the establishment behind. 

Three blocks later, after he was certain he wasn't being tailed, he fished his com from his pocket, sliding it into his ear and pulling out his phone. He pretended to dial and pushed it back into his pocket, finally hearing the other end of the line open up, Damian's voice coming across clear. "Have you obtained the package?"

"Well hello to you, too." Dick let his voice carry a light air, even though he knew just how serious it was that he was carrying a felony worth of illegal substances in his pocket. "It's always right to business talk with you, isn't it?"

Damian's end was silent for a moment and then a loud crack followed by the thud of something hitting the ground with a thud. 

A third voice came across the line. "We're just trying to stay on topic, pretty boy. Unlike you and the purchase of another item. Was that really necessary?"

Dick fished out the gum, opening the package and unwrapping a piece, easing it into his mouth, the odd taste of it sliding over his tongue. "Sue me." He rounded another corner and then slipped down an alleyway. "Should be about time."

A grunt came across the line and the smack of something against concrete. "How about never?" Damian's voice was slightly clipped in the way that told Dick any normal person would have been gasping for air after a strenuous situation. "Three down, one headed toward B."

"He'll be down and out in a minute." Jason's voice was smooth, though Dick could hear the lilt of his voice that meant he was probably running. Another few seconds and then, "Hey, Dickie-bird, hold your left arm out. Look like you're stretching or something."

Dick did as he was requested and a second later someone smacked into it from behind, gagged, and fell hard to the ground. Dick turned around, trying to look casual and confused. Jason dropped to the pavement on the other side of the downed man, turning to the side and only lifting the barrel of his gun slightly away from his hip. One shot through the head and the gun disappeared back into his pocket.

A count of three and Jay was up the drainage pipe attached to the wall of the neighboring building, disappearing into the darkness. Dick took a moment to study the face of the man with a bullet in his head before he turned away and kept walking, heading toward his requisite meeting point. 

When he got to the crowded area, filled with street vendors and food trucks, he weaved through until he found the fountain with a horse statue, coming to settle on the edge of it. His eyes scanned the crowd, finding Jason casually sitting on a bench not far away, consuming a hot dog, a soda sitting next to him. A few more random glances found one of the men he was here to meet, the gun under his jacket obvious.

Dick knew the deal, knew what was coming and a certain dread settled in his stomach. This was the reason why he'd volunteered over everyone else to take this part of the dirty job, despite the fact that someone might recognize his face. Pulling one leg up, he found the man's gaze and waited until he was given a single nod. Sliding his hand into his pocket, he extracted the pouch, giving a flick of his wrist to show it briefly before it slid into his jacket pocket. He opened the pouch, extracted two pills and sealed the bag back, leaving the pills in his pocket.

Standing, he made his way to the food truck closest to Jason, stepping up and ordering a can of Sprite. He received the beverage and he pushed his money across the counter. "It's time," came a voice from right behind him, a different man than the one he could still see from the corner of his eye. Cool metal pressed against the small of his back as the man reached past him to pick up a straw and a ketchup packet. A small breath of, "Take it," against his ear and Dick fished out one of the pills, opening the soda and showing the pill in a way that looked casual. His heart thudded in his chest as he took it between his fingertips and pressed it into his mouth, swallowing it down with the soda.

The gun retreated and the man slung his arm around Dick's shoulder, steering him toward a bench a few to the left of Jason's and plunking them both down on it. "Now we wait."

Dick sat back, pulling one leg up to rest on the bench, foot on the edge of it in case he needed leverage, though the action looked like he was nearly hiding behind it. Heat pooled in his stomach and a wave of nausea swept over him. He blanched and picked up the soda, swigging down another few gulps and making a displeased face. A few waves of dizziness came over him and then abruptly everything came into stark focus. The edges of the world were brilliant and sharp, every noise falling seamlessly into place. He caught the movement of every leaf and every bird and insect. Conversations became singular rather than a droning mass of white noise and he became starkly aware of the presences he knew in his vicinity. 

As covertly as he could, he flicked his gaze around, trying to find the other familiar pull, a slight smile curving his lips when he found her. Selina Kyle. Gorgeous and elegant Selina. She was sitting at one of the tables along the right end of the open area, sipping from a paper cup. She wore glasses that made it harder to see where she was looking, but Dick became suddenly very aware that it was right at them and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bruce had called in a favor.

Easing back, Dick wet his lips and turned his head to study the man beside him. Two things caught his attention instantly. The scent of more than one aftershave on the guy and the hint of alcohol just beneath it. Drinking grade, not the shit they put in aftershave these days. His course of action slid into place and Dick breathed out a quiet huff of a laugh, making sure his voice had a little slur to it. "Shit makes you fuckin' horny."

The guy's eyebrow arched and his eyes flicked to Dick's own in an instant, the interest clear in his gaze. In reality, the drug sort of did, the little burn of fire in his lower abdomen telling him so, but his mind was in such sharp focus he didn't have to deal with it if he didn't want to. But this would give him an edge and it was the only one he needed to get the necessary confessions out of this guy without ever having to pass over the drugs.

Pushing himself to stand up, Dick let his gaze fall on the small brick building that housed a single toilet on each side of it. Letting an easy smile slid onto his lips, he held out his hand. 

There was a moment of hesitation and then the guy was up, grasping Dick's hand and hauling him harshly behind himself toward the squat little building. The rounded the corner into the bathroom area and Dick immediately pinned the guy to the wall, one thigh up between his legs, one hand up to tangle in the man's hair _accidentally_ knocking his earpiece askew. Their lips crashed together and Dick ground himself against his hip. His free hand tangled with the one the guy needed for his gun, holding his wrist against the wall as he rutted hard against him, moaning into the kiss.

The guy responded in kind, his hips pushing forward against Dick's thigh, the evidence that Dick was incredibly right about his preferences slowly stiffening against him as they moved. Dick's hand dragged down from his hair to his shoulder, fingers pretending to fumble and then pressing down hard in three distinct pressure points before Dick let his lips slide off the guy's, dragging over his cheek to his ear. "We don't have to share with _them_. We could have it all... both of us. Experience _this_ all we want to," Dick purred out, his hips grinding harder and more frantically, the guy's doing the same against his thigh.

The hand on his hip bit in hard for a moment. "He would send someone to hunt us down." The response was breathless, desperate; the ache in it clearly one coming from the focus of the mind on the physicality of their actions instead of the play of words, just as Dick wanted it to be.

"You're big and strong... and you have a _nasty_ gun. You could kill whoever they sent. You could..." Dick let himself moan, a part of this whole act, "take your boss, too." His hand wandered the muscles over the man's bicep and then slightly under, just right at the edge of his pit, another pressure point applied. 

The man's hand clamped down hard on his hip, his hips jerking frantically. "Penguin wouldn't like that," he groaned out, his head thumping against the wall. Dick could feel the way he was tensing, the preparation of his body to cum. He wasn't even subtle about it this time, just reaching up under his jaw and pressing two more points, sliding his thumb over the one on the wrist he held pinned and waited it out, his hips rocking still. A loud groan bubbled up from the guy and a second later, his hips were jerking hard as he unloaded right into his pants. 

A few seconds of bliss for the guy and then he slid down the wall rather abruptly, out like a light. Dick took a step back and let him crumble on the floor. He hit his own com and breathed, "Take him out, Jay. Our target is Oswald."

Adjusting himself, Dick turned and left the restroom, moving his packet from his jacket pocket back to his pants pocket again. He turned down the path toward the small wooded area behind the restrooms, his steps easy and his mind utterly focused on everything around him.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "Passenger (ft. Maynard Keenan)" by Deftones

Dick crouched in the darkness on the underside of the railway bridge that stretched between Blüdhaven and Gotham. He had his Nightwing suit on now, though it was only a few hours after they'd taken out the two men who had come for pickup of the drugs that Dick still had possession of. Not _on_ him any longer, of course. But he still very much had them. And his body still ran hot with the lick of the flames from the pill. Everything had calmed a certain amount from right after he'd taken it, but there was still a starkness to the world that hadn't been there before, a clarity to the way things looked and sounded and the way situations seemed to turn beneath his fingertips as he manipulated certain elements of the situations. 

A slight warmth ran through him and he eased himself sideways by only a fraction of an inch, understanding the wind that was about to come whipping down as the train approached with more clarity than he'd ever evaluated it before. His actions had always held a certain grace, but now they held an effortlessness that he was still fully unused to, but adoring of all the same. Moving now, he grasped the side of the beam, pulling himself up and finding a foothold that would have - at some time - seemed risky, but now seemed logical, and reached up with one hand, finding the proper hold on the side of the train and letting go with every other part of his body at the same exact moment, a feat he'd not have managed before.

There was nothing superhuman about it, no matter how much the drug had been labeled as such on the streets. Rather, it was simply an enhancement of the abilities one already possessed. It was the ability to understand how to create more out of yourself. He easily stepped onto the runner and touched the button to open the door, letting him enter the car. 

A man smelling of the streets and his own urine sat hunched in the corner of the car and Dick paused only long enough to evaluate that he wasn't a decoy, shut the door, and continued down through the train. Two cars later, he eased himself right up behind his intended target. One hand slid his throwing knife against Oswald's throat, the other sliding the gun from the holster of the man beside him. He cocked it and lifted it to point right at the third man who was only just rising from his seat, hand on his gun. "Put it down or die trying."

"Nightwing doesn't _kill_ ," the man sneered out, going for his gun anyway. 

Dick didn't even have to look, he only pulled the trigger and re-cocked the gun, the man going down hard on one knee with a cry of pain. "I suppose we have chosen the 'or die trying' route then." He leaned slightly over the back of the seat, cheek to Oswald's hair. "My my... aren't we quiet today, Mr. Cobblepot?" 

Oswald sat very still, his hands in his lap, both visible, and the man beside him sat stalk still, not moving a single inch from where he'd been. If it hadn't been for the obvious signs of life, Dick might have thought him dead for all the movements he made. "Grayson... to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Oh, I think you already know that." Dick pressed the knife slightly harder. "How many more drop points are there?"

The man to Dick's left moved again, his hand inching toward his gun. Dick let him get almost all the way there before flicking the gun slightly left and firing again, this time taking out his elbow. The scream from the man was nothing short of agony and a second later, he was writhing on the ground, shock incoming fast. "Tell me Oswald. I'm sure I can find out on my own if you would like to follow the same path as your bodyguard here."

"You wouldn-" 

Dick slide the blade and shoved it hard into the softer tissue between rotator cuff and collarbone, sinking it in as deep as he dared to, giving it a harsh yank backwards, and then pulling it out, putting it right back against his neck as Oswald choked on his words. "I wouldn't, would I?"

Gasping, Oswald began to laugh. "You took it, you took the pill, didn't you?!" There was a gleeful edge to his voice, one that verged on the tones Dick remembered from Joker so many times in the past. It was just this side of hysteria, a second before insanity, with a crisp edge of clarity that came with such astute pain.

"You're wasting my time." Dick tensed his arm, ready for what he needed to do, even knowing he didn't _want_ to cross such a line again, when his com crackled to life and Damian's voice whispered in his ear, "Don't." It stayed his hand just enough to prevent his action, leaving only a nick on Oswald's neck, the blood sluggishly crawling from the wound, down his pale neck.

The window busted open on the other side of the train and Damian rolled in across the floor, coming up in a crouch, two blades at the ready as he glowered up at both the second guard and Cobblepot. 

Dick's mind worked, a quick evaluation of this newest element in his plan, and he found himself with an easier decision. In one movement, he pulled away from Oswald and cold-cocked the guard next to him, leaving him slumped over, no longer a part of the equation. 

"Three." The answer was immediate this time, something about being confronted by what was probably being deemed an unknown quantity at this point - given Damian's new version of his suit - making Oswald spit it out. "Tell me... how did you get on, Grayson?"

Dick eased himself back and met Damian's eyes, shifting to press three quick spots on Oswald's neck, putting him out cold for what would amount to a good, long time. Damian watched him pitch forward, already taking out the zip ties. He passed two sets to Dick and crouched to tie up Cobblepot. Dick made quick work of the two goons before grasping the window frame and crouching on the ledge. Another quarter mile and he made the jump without his line, rolling out across the rooftop. Damian landed on the roof next to his own, his grapple guiding him in and lending him help in coming to the same rooftop as Dick.

"Did you call it in?" Dick shook his head and Damian switched the line on his com, changing his voice to mimic Batman's as he called in the takedown. Once he disconnected the com, he reached over and took Dick's out of his ear, flicking the switch off and standing there, fire burning in his eyes, the lenses on his mask disengaged. "You did not call backup in."

Dick shook his head. "Didn't need it."

"Bullshit." The way Damian spit out the word gave Dick pause, a certain amount of his usual being slipping in past the walls the drug had built. For an instant there was guilt and thankfulness and then there was the cold, stoic wall again, the one that made him feel powerful... the one that made him feel like Bruce. He squared his shoulders and stared Damian down. "I would have taken him down fine."

"You would have taken him _out_." Damian took the two steps to close the distance between them, getting right up in Dick's personal space. "There is a drug in your system and it is clouding your judgment. You should not be on patrol, much less be within Gotham."

"Half a mile."

"What?" The word came out frustrated and more than a little impatient.

"It's half a mile to Gotham city limits. He was in my zone, not yours."

Damian's body tensed, anguish flashing in his eyes for a half second before he sneered out, "Take that back."

"Or?"

"Or this is getting personal."

Dick leveled his gaze with Damian's own. "Blüdhaven is my zone."

"Tell me how you _really_ feel," Damian hissed out. His movements were quicker than Dick had time to analyze, happening before he could make an attempt to judge them for what they were. One of Damian's feet came behind Dick's ankle, sweeping it forward as he pushed him backwards, slamming him into the side of the stairwell wall. Cold brick bit at his shoulder for the half second he could focus on it, his mind preparing ways to fight back, his body already tensing for the fight. And then Damian's mouth was hot against his own, a hand hard in his hair, pulling with a restrained sort of anger. Teeth bit into his lower lip, not quite hard enough to make him bleed, but enough to hurt. 

A strangled sort of half-moan left him as Damian crowded him against the wall, his hands pinning Dick's wrists in a crushing grip, the extra strength in his gloves ensuring it held with a biting sort of pain. But Dick didn't struggle. In fact, he didn't do much of anything other than sag against the wall, his mind reeling between what was happening and what he _should_ be doing to end his current task with the drug ring.

Damian's tongue shoved hard into his mouth and Dick choked up another sound, his hands curling into fists as his mind reeled between sluggish pleasure, stunned confusion, and the canned up rage of not going after the remaining drop points. 

Something pricked into the side of his neck and numbness began to spread out from it rapidly. It hit his knees and he sagged, Damian slowly lowering him to the ground, pulling back from the harsh kiss, though still holding his wrists tight enough to feel even through the numbing sensation of his muscles starting to refuse to cooperate. Knowledge of the Batman designed tranquilizer surfaced and he managed to hold his eyes open long enough to see Jason standing behind Damian, tranq-gun in his hand as he stared Dick down, clad in the modified Nightwing suit rather than his usual getup.

"He's almost out, kid..."

The hands left his wrists and he could almost vaguely feel the weight of Damian's hands on his cheeks. Their eyes met for a moment and he saw the sadness there as Damian breathed out, "Trust in us, Grayson."

And the world went black.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "Ghost Blood" MXMS / "Possibility" by Lykke Li

Dick came to with a sharp intake of breath, his lungs filling to near bursting as he sat halfway up from his prone position. His eyes rolled back as fire burned through his body and his muscles threatened to seize up. His hands came to his chest, grabbing the fabric there and pulling, a scream trying to burst free, but not succeeding. His fingers curled and breath would not come again, no matter how much he fought for it. His ears heard nothing and his mind registered not a single thing other than pain. Pain like he'd never felt before. Pain he was certain was tantamount to death. And then it was, finally, blissfully, gone; like the flip of a switch: agony to nothingness. He dropped back down, out cold before his back hit the surface beneath him.

...

Time began to exist; a swirling, angry mass of color and sound, of some absurd mixture of pleasure and pain. Emotions clogged him and festered, swelling old and angry, throbbing inside his very being. This anguish was entirely different from the last one. This one was built from memory and chaos, built from desperation and felt with trembling hands outstretched inside his mind. Some of it burned hot like an inferno and some portion of it soothed like the softest blanket, fresh from the dryer. Tears welled in his eyes and even though he could not open them, the liquid still spilled over, flowing down into his hair. 

He ached to touch, to hold... to _feel_ anything in the world outside of his mind, but not a single part of him could move. It was like being trapped between wakefulness and sleep; being a part of a terrible world where everything existed but none of it was real enough to reach out and grasp.

...

Images came with particular singularity now. A full scene here and a single moment there. Jason staring at him with the fear of a man once-dead in his eyes. Then the disappointment in Bruce's eyes as Dick failed him, time and again; the particular memory of a time long ago when he'd taken one of his biggest defiant steps. His own face in the mirror, the essence of his words coming into play. _It's all shades of gray now, isn't it?_ Damian's hands within his own, the weight of Titus against his legs, keeping them apart; the love apparent in Damian's eyes. The pain of a gunshot wound in his thigh, his weight against it time and again as he pushed through, pushed harder; because he was stronger than this weakness.

The sounds of his memories leveled out and he could hear voices besides his own. Tim's voice first, a backdrop to his window looking out over Blüdhaven. _"-hurts so bad... and sometimes..."_ the choked sound of a man trying not to dissolve, _"I think it would be better to just let go."_

The scene changed on the intake of Dick's breath, in the moments before he'd spilled his heart out to Tim in a way he'd never trusted anyone to see inside of him. Now Jay stood in front of him, blood-spattered and broken, terror in his unmasked eyes. And Dick knew this wasn't an actual memory, but a dream... a nightmare of the worst kind. Agony wrenched through him at the knowledge of what came next; his worst nightmare and the only one that ever came back, time and time again. The world exploded fiery orange behind Jason and he spread his arms, closing his eyes as tears tracked down his face, and the fire consumed him. In an instant, the explosion sucked back in and only Jason's domino mask fluttered down to the scorched ground beneath.

Scent came then: the smell of burned hair and cooked human flesh; a scent he knew all too well. If he'd had control over his body, he knew he would have been clutching anything around him, would have been a terrible mess of sweaty sheets and agonized tears; just like he always was when these things surrounded him.

Bruce's eyes reflected in the fallen mask and Dick could feel himself falling into it, spiraling down... down... down. 

...

"Wake up." 

This time his air came in in one great gasp and then it came again and again. His heart pounded, but he wasn't mired by the mud of his memories any longer. His hands clenched and he fought hard against the tears that wanted out, the last memory the most vivid, the one he could have lived a hundred years without ever seeing again. Forcing his eyelids open, he found Jason hovering over him, concern written across his every feature, and Dick lost what little control he had, letting out a sob, one hand coming to clutch hard at Jay's shirt as he rasped out, "Don't leave."

Jay's hand came to rest on top of Dick's own, not pulling him away from his shirt, but not doing anything else with it either. Their eyes met and locked and Dick felt as though he were drowning in them. And drowning was better than burning.

By the time he allowed himself to blink, his eyes were stinging and he felt dizzy. The blinks faded towards longer and longer times between and Dick sank slowly into the comforting arms of actual sleep.

...

Dick slowly sat up, his head swimming and his entire body feeling weak and useless. His fingertips held the slightly numb feeling of having had too much to drink or having slept oddly on his arms. Swallowing, he winced, his mouth dry and the taste within it foreign and vaguely unpleasant, as if he'd been breathing through his mouth for hours on end. Blinking into the darkness, he slowly got his eyes to adjust, finding the familiarity of his own bedroom around him and the slight breeze from the barely cracked window smelling like Blüdhaven was supposed to.

Pushing himself to his feet, he slowly made his way out of the room and into the bathroom. Shedding his pants, he stepped into the shower and sat down on the edge of the tub, turning on the water as he let it heat up, forehead pressed against one hand. His mind was a muddled mess of chaotic thought and unresolved endings to so many things he couldn't quite put them into place as reality or fantasy.

The water heated up and he pushed himself upright, pulling the curtain, and turning on the sprayer. Snagging his cloth from the bar, he wet it and lathered it up, beginning to wash at his skin, filling his mouth with water a few times and spitting it out. His thighs trembled with the effort of even standing and he leaned back against the wall once he'd cleaned as much of his back as he could get to, focusing on his upper body for the time being. Closing his eyes, he slowly moved the cloth over his torso, relieving himself as he did so, too exhausted to care about the place or the timing of it.

Five minutes turned to ten which turned to fifteen before he had himself fully washed and dried off. He brushed his teeth twice to get rid of the rancid taste in his mouth, everything starting to come back to him finally. The pill he'd had to take to remain undercover, the way he'd left the man in the bathroom, that having been the most elegant solution to the problem at hand. He could remember every single moment of those moments and the ones that followed with the starkness of a movie running on fast-forward in his head. Every sight and sound and scent, every logical step between points, and every single _deadened _emotion that had come with it.__

__Rinsing his mouth, Dick straightened up and moved to open the door, squinting against the new light in his living room. Damian leaned against the back of his couch, his arms crossed and his gaze pinning Dick in a heavy sort of manner. His words toward Damian before he'd been tranqed came racing back into his mind and he didn't even bother to stop the wrenching agony of it from displaying on his face as he stared at his Robin. The suit was gone, but the mode was clearly still turned on in Damian's mind, his demeanor indicating he wasn't at all prepared to face Dick as Damian just yet, and that hurt a thousand times worse._ _

__Dick forced his feet to move, bringing him just within Damian's personal space, and he reached out one trembling hand, letting his fingertips barely touch. "I'm," his voice cracked, snapping like his heart was on the verge of doing, "sorry," he managed, his chest tightening an instant later. "I'm so sorry for what I said."_ _

__Their eyes locked and Dick watched as Damian let his guard slowly down, as he left himself open to the conversation instead of hiding away from it behind the emotional mask of Robin. They studied one another, silence reigning as time stretched out before them. Finally Damian spoke, his voice so much smaller than Dick could ever remember it having been. "Did you mean it? That she's yours and not ours?"_ _

__Without another thought, Dick reached for Damian, pulling him into his arms and wrapping him tight within them. One hand slid up into his hair as his nose pushed against the side of his head, his eyelids falling closed. "That me... that horrible version of me... he meant it. Because that version had no room for emotional connection. This drug, Dami..." he shook his head slightly and burrowed his nose back in against Damian's hair, "it's a terrible and a beautiful thing, in the same breath. Beautiful because it creates this world where everything is bound by pure logic, by nothing but patterns and the best possible path toward the end goal of a situation. Things start to feel effortless and you realize you can become basically invincible. But... it's terrible because there _is_ no emotion in it. You do not love or care. Family or bonds no longer matter. It... it's like existing without soul."_ _

__Movement behind him made Dick stiffen for a moment before he caught a whiff of cigarette smoke and menthol, the undertone of motor oil and leather. _Jason._ _ _

__"The drug... I had Bruce analyze it while you were out." Dick shifted himself back just enough from Damian to turn his head toward where Jason's voice was coming from, though he refused to let go. Jason was quiet for a moment before he spoke again, his voice laden with an anguish Dick wasn't certain he'd ever heard there. "Now there are three... three of us who know what this certain agony feels like."_ _

__Understanding sparked inside of Dick and he had to ball his fist against Damian's side to keep himself from choking out a pained little sound. Damian's hand came to rest on his waist, the smallest of gentle touches, soothing some of the ache almost instantly. He turned his head back to push his face into Damian's hair for a moment, closing his eyes and just breathing._ _

__When he opened them again, shifting his head just so, he found Jason standing in front of the bathroom door, his arms loosely crossed, yet his stance somehow radiating patience, the sort he wasn't used to seeing on Jay. "Lazarus...?"_ _

__Jason gave a slight nod. "Not a huge dose of it, but enough to force your mind in the way it did." Jason looked more relaxed as he spoke, shifting to lean against the wall, pushing his hands into his pockets instead. "Call it... the clarity at the edge of insanity. That clear moment where everything can be ruled by logic alone, where you could manipulate the world on the revolution of a dime if you so desired. Nothing in that world has sanctity or _meaning_ beyond existence. Your actions are only product of a means to an end." Jay looked down at the carpet, shaking his head the slightest amount. "Trust me, Dickie-bird... this is a world I lived in for _years_. This is the world that made me tear B apart, that made me almost kill you."_ _

__"And it is the one that provided me with power and yet with disregard." Damian pulled back, only to place his hand on Dick's cheek for the briefest of moments, before that, too, was gone. "You have a choice from here; the same one both of us did. Choose to live within that world or to come out the other side a _better_ person. Learn what love is, learn what emotion can and will do for you... or don't." He stepped out of Dick's grasp then, going to the table and picking up a bottle of water. Cracking the lid open, he came back and held it out._ _

__Dick found a wall in place of the openness in Damian's gaze this time and he felt his heart wrench hard against it, felt his stomach plunge at the very idea of not _feeling_ toward Damian any longer. Those cold moments had been, just that. Cold and lonely, empty and without _real_ meaning. Ignoring the water, Dick reached for Damian instead, drawing him against him, one hand on his hip, the other splayed over his collarbone, thumb just at the hollow of his throat. Their eyes met and Dick watched Damian's gaze soften, felt his body start to relax against his own; unavoidable... inevitable. "I choose this one." Leaning down, he let his eyelids flutter most of the way closed, his lips a breadth from Damian's own, his next words barely breathed out against them. "Life without you isn't worth living."_ _

__Heat slid through his body, this one entirely different, entirely unique, and he _knew_ that this wasn't an action he could leave incomplete. The months between this moment and the technical correctness of it held no meaning when everything remained strung out in the balance of it all. Closing the distance, he brought them together, the touch gentle, filled with a certain care that he'd always known would be inevitable. _ _

__Damian's lips were pliant against his own, his body easing against Dick's own with a gentle sigh, and Dick knew in that barest second that there couldn't have been any other way for this to happen. From the very start, it had been an unavoidable, inescapable that they end up here, just like this... that a line would be crossed, but that it would be so doubtfully gray that not a single person could fault them for it. And he knew, in his heart and deep inside his soul, that there was nowhere else he belonged._ _


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "Diamonds and Rust" by Blackmore's Night / "Gasoline" by Halsey

The scent of coffee drifted up from the mug settled snugly on the counter in front of Dick. He had one leg hooked around the stool he was only half sitting on, leaning heavily on the countertop. Jay sat across from him, a steaming mug of coffee nestled in between his palms, his gaze focused on the depths of the liquid. They'd been like this for nearly a quarter of an hour now, ever since Damian had left to go back to the cave with his reports. Neither of them seemed able or willing to breach the multitude of subjects that lay heavy on the air between them, despite the fact that Dick knew there wasn't ultimately much of a choice in it. 

The heater kicked on, the slight rattle of the grate over the air duct seeming to snap Jason out of it. His head lifted and their eyes met and held as he finally spoke. "Let's get this out of the way. I'm not about to tell anyone what happened between you two today... or yesterday. I don't think there was anything untoward in your intentions or I would have reacted far differently." That spit out, Jay seemed to relax, finally lifting his cup up and taking a long drink from it. When it clinked back down on the counter, he seemed to be a completely different person from the one who had been brooding over the mug just moments before. "There's more important things to talk about here, pretty bird, don't you think?"

Dick nodded, his eyes casting down toward the table for an instant before flicking back up to watch Jason. "Yeah..."

"It'll fade, you know. If it hasn't already for you... it _will_. You just have to remember that." The conviction was more than evident in Jason's voice, insisting to be heard.

"Most of it has..." Dick closed his eyes for a moment, reaching to pinch the bridge of his nose, breathing out a quiet sigh. "Will it always be so brilliant? The memories of what I did?"

"Time has a way of dulling out everything, even our most precious memories. If it can dull those..." Jason chose a point somewhere behind Dick to gaze at, "I can only hope it will do the same to these." So it hadn't... in all this time, Jay could still remember every single second of what had happened, of what he'd done and said, of every path he'd chosen. Within that very second, Dick realized something he hadn't before. Even if Jason having taken up his mantle had been the real him, beneath the mess of this life, it probably never would be again. The pain of what he'd done in the past, the hauntingly stark images of it, pulled him more forcefully toward the path he walked now, one that tried to rectify a million actions in a completely different way than most would have done so. Because Jason - for all his flaws - was the biggest savior of them all. He walked on the darker side of the gray lines they followed to save them all. He took life to preserve a hundred more and he threw himself into the midst of everything involving each and every person he cared about in the reckless way he did as his penance for all of the sins he'd committed in his life. And when Dick needed him... here he was, ready and willing to lay himself bare if only it would help Dick in even the slightest of ways.

Dick's heart felt heavy in his chest, his tongue thick in his mouth as he let all of that sink in. "Talk to me, Jay-bird..." 

Their eyes met again and Dick could see the flash of apprehension and confusion in Jason's eyes before he simply shrugged. "What do you want to know?"

Pulling himself up onto his seat in a more proper manner, Dick settled and wrapped his hands around the warmth of his cup. "Tell me the things no one has been there to listen to, the things you need to get out in the open... the things that hurt you the most." He was quiet for a moment and then, "And I'll tell you mine."

"Sharing has never been my strong suit. You know that." Jay slid off the stool, easing himself onto his feet and then leaning over the counter, the position reminding Dick so much of Tim that he had to wonder for the briefest moment if there were a multitude of things he had never considered at work within their family. "If it's about the pit... I did a lot of things I regret, said a lot of things I'll never be able to make up for. But if you ask me if it made me a stronger person in the end... it did. I wasn't... I wasn't right in the head when I came out of my grave." His voice clipped off at the end, like a door being abruptly slammed shut and when Dick looked at him again, he found anger in Jason's eyes, stark and furious. 

It dawned on Dick that, perhaps, there was still one person in their little world who had no idea how he'd ended up that way. Had Bruce ever told him? Had _anyone_ ever dared to bring it up? Pain lanced through his gut and before he could stop himself, Dick breathed out, "You know we didn't bury you alive... don't you?"

There was a moment in which Dick feared the very worst, in which the raw agony he could see in Jason's entire body spoke to darker things than Dick had ever considered. And then, "I have been... informed."

"Who-"

"Tim." Jason relaxed slightly, his hand pressing to the counter, the action clearly built to stop the slight tremor in his fingers. "A few years ago while you were with Spiral... he..." Jason shook his head, "not my story to tell, ask him if you want to know on that one."

Dick gave a little nod, pushing his coffee cup back and shifting on his stool again. "Did he tell you the whole circumstance?"

"What he knows of it, yes." Jay finally pushed back from the counter and turned toward the living room. "I need some air... coming?"

Dick followed Jay out onto the balcony, watching him pull out and light up a cigarette, watching the ease of his body as he relaxed against the railing, looking out over Blüdhaven. And there was something about it that Dick could identify with. A freedom born of the skyline and the seeming restraint of being indoors, feeling trapped, like the walls were coming down to crush them. He'd always imagined they all felt it to a degree, but here, now, there was a sense that Jason felt it for an entirely different reason than the rest of them. "I don't want to pick at old wounds without it helping something, so if this isn't then-"

"It is." Jay's voice was quiet, slightly choked up beneath the burden of their discussions. "It took the pit to bring me back and - at the time - I found my anger justified for a thousand reasons. Even knowing how I ended up down there, I still feel like some amount of it is... like there are things I'll never forgive him for. But we learn to mend our fences around the giant tears in the earth, don't we? Maybe they're no longer as strong as they once were, but we find a way... either building something new or giving up something in the process... sometimes both." Jason lowered the cigarette, flicking ash over the railing and breathing out a stream of smoke, his eyelids falling closed. "When I close my eyes, I still see everything I did like it's happening all over again. My future is painted by everything I have done and everything I do, just like everyone else. And maybe it seems unfair, but sometimes _life_ is unfair." 

Dick wanted to say something, anything, to take the edge off of Jason's voice, but he knew for a fact that if he interrupted, he'd never hear another word of this from him. Not even in his dying breath, when it came a second time, as they all knew it would one day. The subject of their mortality hung heavy in his mind as Jason continued.

"But the things I've done, they created the person I am now. So while it's like this angry gash in my past, I can still move forward. And whatever you did while you were out there yesterday, Dickie-bird, you'll be okay. Whatever you have done while you were away from us all, exiled without a choice... you'll heal from it, I promise. Out of all of us, you have the most strength to persevere." Almost as an afterthought, "And whatever you did, you felt like you needed to do it for the best. It doesn't make you _evil_ when you haven't died first, Dick." His piercing gaze pinned Dick to the spot for an instant before it was gone, his gaze back on Blüdhaven. "It makes you stronger... smarter. And it makes you cold. But last time I checked, emotional detachment doesn't create evil."

"It can." Dick shifted, leaning back on the railing, one foot coming to rest on the bottom rung, pushing him up as he bent backwards slightly over the railing, feeling his back pop a few times as he eased into it. "But it didn't. It only made me an uncaring asshole who happened to be pretty damn in tune with the world... not the people in it, but the world. And you know what?"

"Hmm?" Jay flicked his cigarette butt over the edge, watching it plummet down below. 

"I hate that guy." He watched Jason's lips quirk upward, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. "That dude blows."

Jason snorted. "Funny... the guy I found in the bathroom seems to think otherwise."

Dick winced, pulling himself up onto the top of the railing to sit, balancing there with ease. "Yeah, about that..."

"You were undercover." Jason shrugged. "I'm not the one you have to justify anything to. And for what it's worth... he doesn't know."

"He should."

"You sure about that?" Jay turned, his hip resting on the railing as he regarded Dick. 

"No..." Dick looked down at his feet, curling his toes and shaking his head slightly. "I don't honestly know if he should know or not, but I feel like lying to him is starting everything off on the wrong foot and that's the last thing I want to do." He fell silent, simply watching the play of his shadow on the ground as he moved his toes. "I have to tell him."

Jason clucked his tongue, a little self-satisfied look on his face as he raised his eyes to a spot behind Dick. "Then here comes your chance. I think it's time for me to make myself scarce." He pushed away from the railing, fingertips skimming over Dick's thigh as he headed back inside.

The flutter of a cape told Dick all he needed to know, Damian dropping near-soundlessly onto the balcony beside him an instant later. Dick shifted his legs apart, careful to hook his calves behind the bars and then gesture Damian between them, into his personal space. Once he was there, he reached to push a stray lock of hair back into his hood, fingertips finding the disengage for the white-out lenses on his mask and pressing it. "I have something to tell you... about yesterday."

Damian's chin lifted just the slightest. "You were on a drug designed for perception of the most direct path toward any end. Whatever you feel you have done, you need not apologize for it, Grayson."

The use of his surname caught Dick's attention and he nearly didn't stop the instant gut-punch reaction of hearing it. He had a hundred things to apologize to Damian for and one apology wasn't about to make it all okay. He let out a stream of breath and let his hand fall back to his side, holding onto the bar beneath him. "No, I do. I do because I owe it to you to tell you the truth and I owe it to _us_ to find remorse in my actions, drugged up or not." When Damian made no move to say anything in return, Dick continued quietly. "I took that man to the bathroom and-"

"I know." Damian cut in abruptly, his voice filled with a certain amount of annoyance.

"I didn't-"

"I _know_." The force of his words stopped Dick cold. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments before Damian looked down, reaching to take Dick's hand in his own. "Please do not spell it out. You were only doing what you thought best in the situation. Father has always used you in that sort of manner and there is no reason you should stop with me when you did not with anyone else."

Dick let himself think on it for a moment before he spoke again. "I don't want to... not anymore. I know it's a part of the role I've played in the past, but I don't feel I should this time. And that... Dami... I _need_ to tell you what did and did not happen."

A muscle worked in Damian's jaw, but he gave a curt little nod, keeping otherwise silent, letting Dick continue. 

"I didn't... we..." he sighed, the words harder to get out than he had thought they would be. "There wasn't any..."

Damian sighed, reaching to lightly tap the side of Dick's head, right at his temple. "I read the report."

Dick relaxed slightly, swallowing against the lump in his throat. "I didn't... feel... _anything_." Drooping slightly, Dick peered at Damian, regret written on his every feature. "It was only a means to an end, to get the information I wanted."

Damian was silent for a moment and then, finally, shook his head. "Look. I never expected you to stay your actions until we are... official." He gave the smallest shrug of his shoulders. "My main concern has nothing to do with this topic. You almost took a life... again. You would have had I not stopped you." Dick opened his mouth and Damian held up his hand. "You were under the influence of the drug and I understand. But you need to be careful. The second time... it is easier than the first. The regret is less than the first. That is a feeling that continues until you no longer think of the value of human life in the same way." Damian's hand ever so gently traced over his jawline, his eyes on Dick's lips as he spoke. "Be careful. That is all that I ask of you."

"You're... not angry?" Dick caught Damian's hand as his fingers slid up over his lips, coming to press against the seam. He pressed a kiss to the tips and then laced his fingers with Damian's own. 

"Never was." Damian squeezed Dick's hand, sinking closer to him, reaching up with his free hand to push his hood back. "It is... getting harder to resist certain things with you."

"Yeah... same... trust me." Dick pulled his hand up and kissed his knuckles before letting him go, turning his upper body slightly to peer off across the city. "She's yours, too, Dami... I didn't mean that... _this_ me didn't mean that. She's _ours_."

Damian's hand came to lightly squeeze Dick's thigh before he stepped back, turning to head inside. Pausing at the door, he threw back a quiet, "Thank you..." and then he was gone, a whisper of his cape all that was left. And Dick found himself watching the door fondly, his own reflection staring back at him. Sometimes... things didn't have to be as hard as they made them out to be and he was only thankful that this was one of those times. Maybe he didn't deserve it, maybe he never would, but hell if he wasn't going to be thankful for it anyway. 

Leaping down from the railing, he paused to turn back to the city, closing his eyes to feel her wind on his face, to smell her own unique scent... and he let her wash over him. She was his... she was Damian's... and he would never regret that.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "Empty Gold" by Halsey

Dick stood at the edge of the steps up to the front door of Wayne Manor, his hands tucked into his pocket and a certain proud little smile on his lips. Alfred and Damian stood beside him as they waited on Bruce to show up. All week, they'd been peppering Damian with random strange gifts, working their way up to the big one, which they were all certain Damian expected to happen _on_ his birthday, not two days prior to it. Hence why they were out here now, waiting alongside Damian, who had been told Bruce was bringing back a slightly larger gift that he'd have to help with, and Dick could only imagine what Damian was thinking he was getting.

His own last gift to Damian had been less than subtle, a single keychain, a fancy golden R dangling from the ring. He'd expected some sort of half-glower from Damian when he'd given it to him, really thinking he would find the gift to be useless given he had no keys to speak of. But instead, Damian had attached the thing to his belt loop and even when he'd changed pants this morning, he had transferred the thing over. All the same, Dick didn't think Damian had figured it out just yet.

The sound of tires on the road and the subtle purr of a car engine came from the road down from the gate and Dick leaned back against the wall, reaching out one hand to Damian, brushing his fingertips over his arm, crooking his fingers when Damian glanced at him.

Glancing over at him, Damian took a step closer, Dick reaching out and tangling his fingers in the front of Damian's jacket, tugging him right up into his space. Warm hands came to rest on his chest and Dick let a certain heat fill his gaze as he studied _his_ Robin. Damian's fingers curled against his chest and Dick slid one hand up to cup his cheek, his thumb sliding over Damian's lower lip.

The sound of the car pulling up should have broken them apart, would have if Dick hadn't been trying to distract Damian until the last possible second, if he hadn't been so tangled up in what he was doing that he didn't want to let go. The subtle shift of Damian's body sent fire skittering through his veins and the way his eyelids sank, heavy, over his eyes, eyelashes resting gently against his flawless skin, had Dick perhaps more distracted than Damian was. So distracted, in fact, that it took a loud cough from Alfred to pull him from it.

Shifting ever so slightly, Dick grasped Damian's other hand, pulling it up to his lips and nuzzling against it for a moment, pressing a soft kiss to his palm before letting it go. Maybe it was absurd, denying themselves what they'd already experienced still. But the fact of it was, neither of them had been able to escape the situations they'd been in without what had happened before. But now, on the other side of it, they knew it was a short road from one action to another and -without discussion, without comment - they had seemingly agreed to leave it at only twice for the time being. 

Dick lowered Damian's hand and slid the one from his cheek down to his neck, lolling his head to the side to regard Bruce, finding him standing there, only a few paces away, his eyes unreadable. For an instant, Dick wondered if he should have been afraid of how Bruce was going to react later, but the fact that he'd not said a thing, not broken any of it up, told him more than any readable expression from Bruce could have. 

Damian took a step back, pushing one hand up and through his own hair, flicking his gaze toward Bruce and issuing a quiet, "Father."

Bruce held out his hand, palm down, his fist closed around something. "Your gift awaits."

Damian moved to hold his hand under Bruce's, the metallic clink of the keys falling from Bruce's hand to Damian's own coming as he let them go. Dick took the two steps down and resisted the urge to look around the corner. They'd all helped Bruce pick out the gift and he was honestly curious enough about it that he was having a hard time not looking.

Bruce shifted out of the way and Damian's eyes widened as he took in the brand new BMW in the driveway. Dick could hear the hitch in his breath, watched the way his body tensed to try to stop the rest of his excited reactions to it, and that spoke of a million emotions all by itself. Glancing up at Bruce, Dick found a small curve of a smile on his lips for the first time in a very long time. Something shifted inside of him and he relaxed in a way he hadn't in a few years now. 

Gravel crunched under their feet as the four of them moved toward the car, the metallic orange-red gleaming under the morning light. The low sling of the car coupled with the low profile tires and the virtual _beast_ feel of the car screamed raw power. The entire car was a perfection of lean muscle and perfect angles; every dip of the chassis and every gleaming inch of chrome lending to the air of power behind the machine. Dick let his gaze fall back on Damian, watching him walk around the car and then slowly look down at the keys, his hand fluttering to the R dangling from his belt loop. 

"M8?" he questioned softly, the tone of his voice unlike anything Dick had ever heard from him before. 

"It is." Bruce came to stand just behind Damian. "Entirely in your name. I will cover insurance and gasoline for the first year, after that it is your responsibility." 

Damian breathed out a pleased little noise, unlocking the car and opening the door. Sliding into the driver's seat, his hands set to exploring the workings of the car, the key going into the ignition and starting it up once the clutch was engaged, his fingers finding and pressing buttons and generally familiarizing himself with everything inside of it. Dick had seen him do something like this before, each time he was shown a new vehicle to drive or a new piece of equipment; it was as though his fingers were memorizing the location of everything, the feeling of depressing buttons or engaging triggers.

"Damian." Bruce's voice demanded attention and Damian's head snapped up to look at him instantly. "If you make any modifications to it, you are responsible for them in full. And this _will not_ be your work vehicle, understood?"

"Yes, Father." Damian's voice was gentle, a certain tone to it that let Dick know they'd all done very well in their choices with the car. His attention returned to the variety of knobs and buttons. After a few minutes and having finally examined them all, he let his hands rest on the steering wheel for a moment and then reached to turn off the engine, shifting out of the car and gently closing the door. Dick knew there would be more of an examination soon enough; under the hood, under the car itself, and probably nearly piece-by-piece, but not right then. Turning to them, Damian lifted his head, the slight tilt of his chin giving away how pleased he was. "Thank you for this gift. _He_ is... perfect."

Dick chanced a glance at Bruce's face, finding that hint of a smile there once again, relief flooding through him. Some things... were simply meant to be.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song[s]: "鴉" by Dir en grey / "Before U Go" by DBSK

Dick could feel his heartbeat picking up, the wild flutter of it in his chest something he wasn't entirely used to when it came to a response to an individual person in such a positive way. The usual for this feeling was accompanied with the tickle of fear in his palms, the sting of sweat in his pours; the deepest clench in his belly telling him to dodge a knife or a bullet. But this... this was something else. 

He wasn't at all where he had expected to be when this happened. He'd had every romantic notion in his mind, every frantic intention to create a beautiful moment for them when everything was finally allowed. _Beyond_ allowed. But now, in the dimly lit hallway between the study and the staircase, this was the only way Dick could imagine it being at all. Still, they had not touched, had not so much as moved toward one another, and already he felt like every single connection he'd been holding back on had opened up and come flooding to the surface.

Their eyes met and Dick let himself sink back against the wall, arms at his sides, palms turned toward Damian... waiting.

There had been a great many moments today he hadn't quite expected to go the way that they had. When he'd shown up at Wayne Manor early in the evening, it had been to his great surprise that there was no scent of Alfred's best cooking, not a single hint of anyone going overboard for Damian's eighteenth. But when he'd been called into the study and handed an envelope, it had all become crystal clear... and he'd never felt more like breaking down right in front of his entire family than he did in that moment.

Bruce had reserved them the finest of dining places, one that Damian had absolutely adored when they'd arrived, and Jason and Tim had supplied the monetary based contributions to the whole excursion. Damian had driven them, more than a little excited to use his new car for the ride. All in all, Dick couldn't have asked for a better way for the family to have given him and Damian their blessing. And that was what it had been. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. 

With a hundred chances behind him to have had this moment... Dick decided that none of them would have amounted to a damn thing in comparison. When Damian finally advanced on him, Dick could feel every ounce of his being submitting to it. His body eased beneath Damian's hands, his breath catching as his fingers danced along Dick's arms, the touch tender and oh-so irrevocably loving. Their fingers tangled with one another and an instant later, Damian was _there_ , pressed to him from thigh to chest, regarding him with lash-sheltered gaze. And yet... it still wasn't the exact moment. It wasn't the _final_ moment, and they both knew it, knew it like the air they breathed. 

Damian's hands squeezed, the pressure intense, insistent... and then gone as he stepped away, his eyes casting to the study door and then settling back on Dick's own. Relief was sharp and instant, his nod coming before he could think to stop it, and within the very same second, they turned toward the study and the cave, knowing this had always been the right path. No one could have told them otherwise.

\---------

An hour later, nothing could stand in their way. They were nothing but twin flashes of color across the night sky, silent as ever, only the occasional catch of wind in Damian's cape or the reel of the grapple on the particularly lengthy jumps. The more they ran, the longer they jumped, the more in sync they became until every single landing was made at the exact same rhythm, every tuck and roll coming out on the same footing and every fancy little twist Dick put in being equaled by Damian. 

The miles of Gotham stretched out behind them, left in their dust as they went flat-out. Dick's lungs burned, his heart speeding in his chest, and his ears roared from the constant array of ups and downs of their route. But when, at long last, their feet hit the gravel of the first building just inside Old Gotham, Dick found himself slowing down. Two more buildings and a hook up to the top of one of their oldest perches before Dick came fully to a stop. 

His back hit the wall with a solid _thunk_ , Damian's hands grasping his wrists faster than he was entirely certain he'd thought the other could move. Even as Damian moved his arms up over his head, pinning them there, just inches from his hair, all he could do was watch him intently, his heart thudding rapidly in his chest. Damian's body melted against his own and this time... _this time_ it felt like everything it was ever supposed to have. This time his heart leapt into his throat and his whole body threatened to flush within the confines of his suit. 

For an instant - one long, drawn out moment in time - Dick could see everything written in Damian's gaze. He could see the love, the affection, the pure intimacy of what they were. And his heart soared.

And then Damian's mouth was hot against his own, Dick's hips surging forward in a way he'd never let happen before. Damian's grip tightened on his wrists, holding him fast as his tongue bathed Dick's lower lip, teeth finding and tugging on the plump flesh a moment later. Dick's world exploded in white hot heat an instant later, as he yanked his hands free, shoving one into Damian's hair, holding on with a grip that should have been criminal. Snagging him around the waist, he ground his hips forward, arching and dragging, until he could barely breathe for all the feelings slamming their way through his body.

Damian's fingers dug hard into his shoulders, his tongue shoving greedily into Dick's mouth. Teeth clicked and moans were swallowed down whole. 

"Jesus... get a damn room." Jason's voice cut in, clearly more amused than anything else. But it served its intended purpose, Dick and Damian releasing one another like fire had touched down between them. 

Panting softly, Dick reached up, wiping his arm across his lower lip, letting his gaze linger on Damian for another moment before regarding Jason. Irritation and gratefulness warred deep inside of him, leaving him with a resigned sort of expression on his face.

Jason took a step toward them and breathed out, "Trust me... stop looking guilty." 

A few moments later another pair of boots thudded to the rooftop, the gait making it perfectly clear Bruce had taken it upon himself to join them. Dick shoved a hand through his hair and glanced toward Damian, who had moved to crouch at the side of the building, facing completely away from them all... which was probably for the best given their present situation. 

"Decided to come out? Even tonight?" Bruce's voice took Dick by surprise, not having expected Bruce's to come out of Batman.

But he relaxed after a second, shrugging. "Yeah. Just sort of seemed natural, I guess... no point in taking a day off from a city that won't take one for itself, right?"

"We were out here," Jason offered, carefully positioning himself in a way that cast Dick into the shadows, hiding away anything else that may have left him looking guilty as all hell. "Don't feel obligated or anything."

"-tt- We are not obligated tonight, Hood." Damian stood up, spreading his cape. A second later, he disappeared over the side, having stepped off the ledge without so much as a single amount of preamble. 

Bruce was off after him like a shot and Dick flicked his glance to Jason, finding him still standing there, arms crossed over his chest, utterly unmoved. "Think he knew?" 

Jason cracked a grin at that, reaching to clap a hand on Dick's shoulder, squeezing as he stepped past him. "Who knows Dickie-bird. Even if he did, he didn't seem to care. But... maybe out here isn't the safest choice, yeah?"

Dick proffered up a noncommittal noise, shrugging his shoulders as he turned to follow Jason. "Since when are any of us _safe_?"

The comment earned him a laugh and even as he took a running start at the ledge, Jason leaped off, the pair of them hitting the next building's roof running, nearly paced. And nothing... _nothing_ could have been better than knowing everything was falling into place in all the right ways.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song[s]: "Let it Go" by James Bay

Damian's hand speared into Dick's hair, his grip tightening and his hand twisting, effectively pulling to the point of near pain. Dick let out a quiet hiss against Damian's lips, nipping lightly in warning, but receiving no heed for his efforts. Swiping his tongue over the spot he'd bit down on, he shuffled backwards to the couch, sinking down onto it, Damian following without them ever breaking the kiss.

If he was honest, Dick had never had anyone glue themselves to him like this. Not in all his years of messing around with more than his fair share of lovers. The way Damian kissed him was hungry down to his very core; a desperate sort of loving affection that warred with the absolute _desire_ pinned up inside of him. Every single time, it lit a fire deep inside of him and every single time, he could feel himself taking a step closer to the lines he'd drawn in the sand at some point along the way. 

It'd only been a week and he was honestly surprised it had taken them this long to actually be alone for this long. But duty had called again and again and their day jobs hadn't helped a thing: Damian at Wayne Enterprises and Dick working a little live-house a few blocks from his apartment. He could have gone back to a hundred other jobs, could have found his place inside of Bruce's company if he'd wanted to... but he'd been happier accepting this little piece of himself. And the longer he worked there, the more and more he felt like this had always been the right decision. It wouldn't make him a fortune, but he'd have been kidding himself if he thought anyone in their family would leave his night persona high and dry, and some part of him knew that.

Damian's warm body slid over his own, his legs spreading, thighs parting as he settled himself on Dick's lap. Shivering, Dick let his hands slide up the back of Damian's shirt, his fingers passing over the lengthy scar along his spine, splaying out to capture as much of his skin as possible in the journey. When Damian's tongue came to beg entrance, he parted his lips, meeting him halfway with his own, a small groan bubbling up from somewhere deep inside of him.

Arching his hips up to meet Damian's, he didn't even try to stop the gentle rocking motion they set up with ease. His heart thudded in his chest and his body swam with a heat that was born of repressed desires and the intensity of the warmth coming off of Damian's body above his own.

Damian's free hand moved over his shoulder, resting gently on his chest, and then sliding to allow his fingers to work over Dick's nipple, teasing it into a tight little bud beneath his t-shirt. Dick let out a quiet huff of breath and his hips jerked, utterly of their own accord. He could feel the curve of Damian's smile against his lips, could feel the way his hips pushed more insistently. 

Minutes passed them by in what seemed like seconds, the only other sound in the apartment the steady click of the grandfather clock against his far wall. It was something he hadn't been able to go long without once he'd moved out of Wayne Manor. Years of being under the same roof as one, he felt compelled by it and at ease with it. Without it... he had been perpetually off his schedule, always adrift in a sea of what felt like impending madness. And, honestly, that was a part of what had happened in Deep Ellum; too many things to throw him off his game, too many things to mourn. 

Their kiss broke as Damian's hands grasped the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off before Dick could think to protest the action. Instead, he just went with it, watching as his t-shirt fell to the floor, Damian's own shirt joining it a moment later. 

Unable to help himself, Dick let his hands began to wander the exposed skin before him. His own skin was pale against Damian's darker tone and he marveled at the way his fingers looked in such contrast. Faintly olive to nearly latte... and Dick could have found nothing more delicately beautiful in his entire life. He let his thumb pass over one dusky nipple, repeating the process until it was hard beneath his touch. 

Leaning in, he captured Damian's lips again, this time their kiss was hungrier, less refined. His hand pressed over Damian's chest, feeling his heartbeat flutter there, feeling the heaviness of his breath in the rise and fall of his chest. Another shudder of repressed desire slowly unwinding and he fought the urge to change their positions, fought the urge to press Damian against the nearest surface and give in to everything he'd carefully filed away to deal with later. And, really, it had all been so carefully repressed that he'd barely even noticed just how overwhelming the emotions were until now. 

Damian shifted on his lap, their kiss disengaging, his hands gliding down his sides and coming around his ribcage and down his belly to his pants. Before he could think to stop him, Damian had his belt undone and his fingers were already popping the button. Only then did his mind fully engage; the fear of just how far he would push this if he were allowed to surging up hard and quick. Grasping his hands, he guided them back up to his chest, to safer territory. His own hand came to cup behind Damian's neck, pulling him back down, intent to kiss him again.

"Wait." Damian's voice was soft, but demanded attention and in an instant, Dick's hands were moving lightly over Damian's shoulders, not completely breaking the mood, but severing any form of guided contact. Damian's hands rested against Dick's chest, palms warm against him as he studied Dick, confusion painting his beautiful features. "Will you state your responses as facts?" Dick nodded and Damian gave a brief nod of his own. "Why did you stop me?"

The slightest anxious little prickle went up Dick's back and he didn't bother to stop the wince from displaying itself on his face. "I knew I wouldn't stop..."

This look was one that Dick couldn't have labeled as anything but utterly incredulous. "Do you think I would want you to?" Dick shrugged helplessly and Damian sat back slightly, a quiet, "-tt-," leaving him. "Grayson..." the name came with the intent it always did, to force Dick to listen to him on a baser level. "I am not as inexperienced as you seem to believe me to be."

This time shock really did make its way through him. "What?" There was nothing in the world that could have prepared him for that. He'd thought him to basically be the first to ever do a single thing to Damian and the idea that he wasn't left him feeling like he had somehow ignored a whole portion of Damian's life over the years. Or maybe he was just that damn good at hiding it. 

"Details are... unnecessary. But I assure you, what I am leading us to - this first part - will not be the first time for it." Damian regarded him quietly then, his eyes darting between Dick's mouth and his gaze. "I want this if you do."

Slowly, Dick let his hands move back over Damian's arms to his torso, then down to rest lightly on the hem of his pants. The warmth radiating from just a few inches lower was incredible and for an instant, all Dick could think about was having seen this part of Damian before. _Twice_... and hell if he didn't want to see it again. Swallowing thickly, he realized he had been staring for far too long. "I want you... trust me on that."

Damian's hands came to rest on top of Dick's own, slowly moving to cover them and then sliding one lower until Dick's palm was cupping the warmth of Damian's erection. A slow rock of Damian's hips pushed his cock against his hand, a tiny moan breaking free of his throat. "Dick... _please_."

That was all it took, the gentle plea, the quiet little sound that meant Damian was willing to ask him for what he wanted. Dick pulled him closer, grinding his hips upward a half dozen times before grabbing the waistband of Damian's pants and tugging them down to mid-thigh. When he got him settled back into his prior position, he didn't even hesitate to take him in hand. He didn't let himself think about it long enough to find a reason to back out or a reason that they weren't ready. Because he wanted nothing more in the world right then than to do this and he didn't want a single thing to stop him from providing the relief Damian wanted from him.

Their lips met again, still just as hungry as before, the wet slide of tongue over tongue, the biting pain of lips caught on teeth as they virtually tried to consume one another. Dick's fingers found everything to explore about Damian's length, stroking and rubbing his thumb over the head, gliding his fingers down the length of it, teasing the vein on the underside. Damian's hips refused to settle, the buck of his hips solid against Dick's touch, the harsh way he gripped his shoulders telling how long it had likely been and just how badly he wanted everything that was happening.

Dick's world narrowed down to Damian and Damian alone. He tasted him, smelled him, felt him... _breathed_ him. And when Damian's hips jerked more erratically, when his kisses became disjointed and his nails dug against Dick's shoulders, Dick let go of his cock, pulling him forcefully against his body. Damian's cock pressed to his stomach and Dick held him there tightly, pulling back from the kiss to breathe out, "Give me this." It wasn't a request and he knew it the moment it freed itself from his throat. 

Damian grabbed the back of the couch and his hips began to work hard and quick against him. Dick pushed one of his hands up Damian's back, fingers splayed as he alternately watched between them and his lover's face as pleasure overcame him. He could see it as much as he could feel it. The way it ate away at his self-control, the way his lust drove him beyond reason, beyond rational thought. And then Damian's hips were jerking hard and he was crying out Dick's name, crystal clear and in such a way that Dick was certain he'd never thought he would have heard coming from his lips. Warmth splashed up across his abdomen and Dick looked back down, watching as spurt after spurt of Damian's cum drenched his skin. He watched the way Damian's hips jerked, felt the way his hips had canted and his thighs had parted even more, as though inviting him closer between them. And dear lord did he ever want to be there. 

He wanted everything he could have ever had from Damian and he wanted it like nothing else on this earth. But the fact remained that he couldn't quite make himself cross that line just yet. Instead, he reached up, grabbing the back of Damian's neck and hauling him down to swallow up the tiny little sounds he was making as his hips continued to work against him. His own hips jerked upward, again and again as he forced himself to focus on getting off before they could take it any further. Not yet... not this first time. 

Breaking the kiss, he reached for Damian's hips, holding him down tight against him as he jerked his hips up hard a few more times. With a gasp, he tumbled over the edge, a soft whimper of noise leaving him as he came. Cum spilled down his cock, thick and warm inside of his pants and he almost wanted to laugh; would have if he hadn't been mid-orgasm. This hadn't been a thing since he'd been a teenager and even then, it had been a rarity. 

Leaning back against the couch Dick held Damian's hips steady, letting himself study the mess between them. Breathing out a quiet huff of a laugh, Dick arched again and then settled. "You make me feel like a teenager all over again."

"Mmm..." Damian eased himself off of Dick, pulling his pants back into place and then offering the smallest of smiles, something Dick knew he'd treasure for a lifetime to come. Getting to see this side of Damian was well worth the wait. Turning away, Damian headed right for Dick's bedroom and Dick couldn't stop the grin that spread across his lips. Leave it to him to want to stay the night... to not even ask and simply let it be what it was. And, really, he was perfectly fine with that. 

Standing up, Dick snagged some tissues, mopping himself clean and pitching them into the trash bin before turning off the light and following him to his room. For now, everything was golden and Dick couldn't have been happier.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "雪葬" by Nightmare / "Was it a dream?" by Thirty Seconds To Mars

Dick woke up sometime mid-morning to light streaming in from the half-open curtains. Rolling away from the window, he pulled the covers higher over his abdomen, just lolling his head on the pillow. Damian lay sprawled out halfway on his front less than a foot from him and Dick could feel his lips curving upwards as he studied his back. This was his life now... waking up to having Damian in his bed. Waking up to something that could make him feel joy in his heart for the first time in a very long time... and it warmed him to this very core. He knew he'd have issues the nights Damian wasn't there, that the cloud of pseudo-nightmares he lived with would come back without another being beside of him. But those were things he'd never speak out loud... things he'd never tell Damian for fear of swaying him in a way he did not want.

Sliding forward a few more inches, Dick propped himself up on one elbow, reaching his free hand toward Damian's back, fingertips aching to touch, but not daring to disturb his sleep just yet. He ghosted his hand in the air above the long scar down his back, the one from when Talia had given him a new spine after he'd been shot. _His fault_ , Dick reminded himself with a wince. This scar wouldn't exist if it hadn't been for him allowing Damian out with him at such a young age. But then again... he honestly could say that it was possible _they_ wouldn't exist without moments like those. 

Regret was a curious thing, especially once there were years with which to back it all up. He could have blamed himself for Damian's death, just as Bruce had. He could have blamed himself for every single scar that graced Damian's skin with exception of the ones he'd come to them with... but he didn't. 

Dick let his fingers settle on the sheet instead, slowly sliding it down, revealing inch after inch of Damian's body to him. He stopped at his waist, ensuring it wasn't anything even remotely untoward, despite how much he wanted to see everything Damian was laid out before him. Hell, he wanted to spend hours looking him over and hours more showing Damian just who he could be between the sheets. His cock gave an irritated throb and Dick closed his eyes, mentally starting to catalogue his weapons inventory. An old trick and a far easier version of some advice he'd once been given to recite baseball scores. 

He was halfway through the variety of throwing objects he had when Damian's voice quietly interrupted him. "Your observational skills could use some work."

Dick didn't even stop the wince that slid over his features as he let his hand fall onto the sheets between them, effectively holding it in place so - perhaps - Damian wouldn't see how even just this little bit of a revelation had affected him. "Oh?" He cracked open one eye and then both, finding Damian still facing away from him. 

"Did you realize I was awake?" There was a soft edge to Damian's voice, one Dick couldn't quite match up with the direction of their conversation, try as he might.

Swallowing, he let his gaze travel over Damian's back again, following the path of the spinal scar down until it disappeared beneath the sheet. "No. Sometimes... our minds are focused on other things."

Damian was quiet for long enough that Dick thought he wasn't going to answer, long enough that he started to roll toward the other side of the bed to get up and escape how awkward the situation was quickly becoming. But the instant he tensed, ready to move, Damian's voice met his ears once again. "You have my full permission until otherwise retracted to touch me how you wish to. In _any_ way." When Dick didn't move, Damian sighed, one arm sliding up over his head, fingertips touching the wall as he stretched causing the sheet to slide downward just the smallest amount. "I thought I made it clear last night that I am not nearly as inexperienced as you seem to believe."

Dick felt as though someone had let the air out of him, deflating him in a rather abrupt fashion. Was it really that he was keeping himself from Damian for no reason at all? Or was it that Damian felt the need to feed him this line in order to encourage him to get somewhere with it? And even if it was the second, did it really matter if it was a lie if this was what Damian wanted? Spearing his hand through his hair, he took in a deep breath and then eased himself just the smallest amount closer.

Reaching out, he finally let his fingertips travel over the length of Damian's scar, starting at the base of his skull and easing slowly downward. His hand shook as he neared the end of it, as he had to push the sheet along with his fingers. And then the sheet was gone, Damian pulling it down, revealing he'd chosen to sleep in the nude. Dick's breath stuck in his throat, lodged there firmly as everything in him responded to the beauty of Damian's body before him. The gentle swell of his ass, the faint curve of his hipbone... even the way the scar he was tracing ended just where everything began to dip in slightly. That part had to have been hell to heal, of that he was certain. His thumb passed over the last little length of the scar and Dick forced his breathing to remain even, despite the way his heart hammered in his chest. 

Sliding forward another inch or so, Dick slipped his hand over Damian's hip, letting himself feel the way it would be to hold him there if he were to give in to everything he wanted. Warmth surged toward his cock and he didn't do a damn thing to stop it this time, knowing he would catalogue away everything about this moment for later... for a safer place and time. He felt heady just from the way he was seeing Damian, from the way his skin felt beneath his hands. 

Damian shifted, sliding one leg up, the sheet falling to his ankles, threatening to expose Dick's own secret to the world. He shifted just enough to trap it lightly between himself and the bed, hiding it away in some small fashion as he slipped his hand down over Damian's hip and along his upper thigh. Excitement gripped him and his mind ran to a thousand places, the most prominent being the singular image of his hands parting Damian, revealing his most intimate of places to him, and-

He cut himself off with a tremble, a spike of lust spearing through his body, nearly making his eyes roll back in his head. God... how long had it been? How very long had it been since he'd been with anyone? And him, of all people. He was the guy that usually went through bed partners the way most people did laundry. The man who had racked up enough of a list he didn't dare to count it anymore... and he'd been utterly devoid of such contact for... well... too long. 

Realizing he was breathing hard now, he forced himself to slide his hand back up into safer territory, tracing along Damian's side, just under his ribcage and then up and over it... around to his stomach and he snapped to just before his hips tried to push forward. He'd moved without even thinking about it, slid closer to Damian, close enough they were sharing Damian's warmth now, the heat radiating from his skin permeating Dick's as well. And he was nearly panting with the repression of his own needs. 

Cutting off a sound that wanted out, he forced himself to lean down, his lips pressing to Damian's shoulder for a moment before he turned his head and let his cheek rub lightly against the skin. His hand was tight on Damian's hip again, but this time it was to hold him in place, to ensure Damian didn't rock his hips backward and find out far more than Dick intended for him to. Maybe he was torturing himself... maybe he was living a life wherein he was aching for things he shouldn't quite want just yet... but hell if he could really stop any of it. 

Damian's hand landed over his own, fingers easing along Dick's. "... What are you thinking?"

Snapping out of his own head, Dick blinked at the back of Damian's head for all of a few seconds before his body screamed at him that he was nearly desperate for release, that it wouldn't take much at all if only he'd give in. His breath hitched and he pressed his forehead against Damian's shoulder, closing his eyes. "I'm not sure you really want to know that..." 

"I wouldn't ask if I did not wish to know."

Dick let his head move, ending up nuzzling in against Damian's shoulder again, his cheek rubbing, lips parted as he tried so hard to let that be enough. But his hips still tried to betray him, aching to push forward, to find contact and ease the burning ache. He was stronger than this... he'd _always_ been stronger than this and he couldn't begin to fathom why he was so entirely at a loss for control right then. Granted, he wasn't acting. But he was fighting himself in a way that was nearly as bad as the one time in his teens when he'd been dosed with something. The one time he'd found himself in an alleyway with a woman kneeling between his legs and pleasure tingling up his spine. 

He shook the image away and eased his grip on Damian's hip, instead moving his hand up a few inches, forcing the normalcy of such a touch as he worked on his breathing. He didn't give it too long though, didn't give Damian enough time to think he was avoiding. "About... all the things I want to explore with you one day." Maybe explore was not the word he really wanted to use. The things he wanted to _do_ to Damian... the things he wanted to _show_ him. The image of rolling Damian onto his stomach and sliding his thighs over Damian's own, penetrating him abruptly from behind filled his mind and Dick nearly whimpered from the force of the image. Arousal shot heavy through him and his cock actually strained out from his body, his hips locking in place to keep him from jerking them against Damian's body. 

His fingertips tingled and his balls ached. All he wanted to do was grab Damian and rub against him until he was cumming. His hips moved a fraction of an inch and Dick gritted his teeth against it. Fighting this was _not_ working out very well. 

Damian huffed out an annoyed little sound. "Do not make me control this situation again." His hand came to encircle Dick's wrist, his grip tighter than Dick would have expected. "Ask me the necessary questions. All of them." His tone made it clear he wasn't even the slightest bit kidding and it had Dick nearly squirming in his spot, trying not to arch forward. 

Pulling his hand free, Dick rolled over onto his back, bringing his knees up enough to hide what was going on below the waist beneath the sheet. He threw his hands over his eyes and then eased them behind his head, linking them to keep them from wandering. "Okay... question time then." Still his breathing was anything but calm, but at least it was mostly just short rather than erratic. "Just how uh... much have you done?"

Damian moved then, rolling over and smoothly sliding his arm over Dick's abdomen, propping himself up as he let his hand explore the expanse of skin available to him. "Do you wish specifics or a dance around the topic?"

Dick made a helpless little noise and Damian actually cracked a little bit of a smile as he splayed his fingers out just above Dick's waistband. "Quite a few years ago I had a tutor coming over twice a week." He glanced up, catching Dick's gaze for a moment before he let his eyes wander again. "A few months in, I believe he realized there was really only one topic I needed any _tutoring_ in." He leaned in, his hot breath cascading over Dick's nipple a moment before Damian's tongue lapped over it, causing Dick to gasp loudly, his hips jerking of their own accord.

"That is... the who. The what is infinitely more convoluted. And while I believe the technical ideology of the term virgin still applies to me, I assure you I have experience in everything that leads up to it."

Shivering, Dick arched his hips again when Damian pinched the other nipple between his fingers. His hand moved upward, sliding up Dick's side and over the dusting of hair at the juncture of his arm and torso... and then higher, gripping his bicep and squeezing. "You touch me like I am breakable when you well know that I am not."

Dick closed his eyes, fighting for his even breaths, fighting to keep himself steady somewhere in his mind. Instead, he was quickly being overcome with madness... a madness born from a man who had been called a thousand times _oversexed_ , who had been denying himself for far too long. Hell, he'd even taken away most of his personal time and he realized now how very much of a mistake that had been. Gritting his teeth even harder, he fought for control. Finally, achingly, he relaxed his mouth, breathing out, "I've not in so long... I-" his voice cracked, "don't want to hu-"

Damian moved before Dick could get his brain to register what was happening. The sheet was gone and Damian was straddling him, his hands pressing hard against his biceps, holding his arms in place as he rocked his body down hard against Dick's own. 

The sound of Dick's sharp cry echoed in the bedroom as his hips jerked upward, the contact melting his resolve faster than anything else could have. The surge of lust came with an intensity that Dick honestly hadn't had any idea he was capable of. His hips quickly sought closer contact and - dear God he wanted to fuck him senseless. The abrupt cut of thought gave him pause, gave him a much-needed breath of air and his hands clenched into fists. Easing his hips down, he forcefully kept himself still. 

"Damn it!" The words coming from Damian's mouth startled Dick into snapping his eyes to Damian's face, finding him staring down at him with a mixture of hurt, confusion, and _definitely_ arousal. "Do you want me or... not?" The words came out far more afraid than Dick had ever suspected anything could have come from Damian's mouth and he realized in that moment that his holding back was only furthering some strange insecurity Damian had somewhere deep inside of him. 

He tugged his arms and Damian let go, started to move off of him, a strangely dejected look on his face, and Dick reacted before he could even think it all the way through. Hooking one arm around his waist, he moved one leg, smoothly rolling them so that Damian's back pressed against the sheets and Dick loomed over him. His hand eased Damian's thighs apart and then he was there, pressing his clothed cock right up against Damian's ass, rubbing gently, his hips rocking as he gazed down at him. "More than I've ever wanted anyone in my entire life. And you're right, I'm terrified of hurting you," his hips jerked and he bowed his head for a moment, his eyes closed as he brought himself back into check. "I want... God, Damian, I want to _wreck_ you. I want to fuck you until you couldn't possible cum anymore and then I still want to explore you. I want to hear you cry and scream and whimper my name... and I want to be the cause of every pleasurable feeling for the rest of your damn life." He rocked his hips again and then froze there, hips pushed forward. "But I'm afraid of it all. I've never wanted someone like _this_ , with this much emphasis, with this much raw intensity. And I don't want to hurt you... not in any way under the sun."

Finally, he found it in himself to pull back, to ease back from Damian's warmth, though it shot painful aching lines through his chest and arms to do it. Lifting his head, he opened his eyes and met Damian's gaze. "I'd never forgive myself if I caused you any more pain." He watched Damian's face go from curious to upset in an instant, watched the way his lips parted and hurt painted his gaze. 

"Dick... no." Damian reached for him, hooking on hand behind his neck and pushing himself up on one hand for support. "You've never... when do you think you have hurt me?"

Dick cast his gaze over the littering of scars on Damian's torso before he let himself focus on something off to the side of him, trying to let the dull white of the sheets ease him. And then, finally, he breathed it out. "If I rush into this... if I give in because _I_ want whatever's happening, then I'll only be proving I can't control myself... that me watching you _twice_ was entirely my own weakness in not speaking up and not being a better person. What I did... what I did _after_... I'm trying to forgive myself for it... but I can't."

Damian let out a frustrated little growl of a sound, all but wrenching Dick back down on top of him. One leg locked behind him and Damian kissed him hard for a moment. When he backed away from it, he waited until Dick's eyes were on his own and then he jerked his hips up hard, grinding his own arousal against him. "This isn't teenage excitement, Dick. This is for _you_. For your touches and your gazes... for the way you feel against me and the way you make me think when I am alone. You are living in a world of denial, but you are not just denying yourself anymore." His hand tightened on his neck and he glowered up at him. "Use that brain of yours for _us_ for once. I do not think this has _ever_ been one-sided, so stop acting like it is."

It took everything in Dick not to grind back down against Damian's cock, feeling how hard he was, how damp the tip was against his belly. Images of the night before flashed back to him as Damian's words sank in. Panting softly, he leaned heavier against Damian, one arm curling around his waist as he shifted his position, letting his length drag along the juncture of Damian's thigh and groin, knowing the one big thing he wanted right then was skin-to-skin contact. "Swear to me... if I do _anything_ you don't want, you stop me. Full-force and immediately. Swear it to me or... I can't... I won't."

Damian sighed, sliding his hand to frame Dick's face for a moment, letting their eyes lock before he breathed out, "I will want everything you have to offer me. I cannot imagine a single thing I would not do with you. But if it will put your mind at ease, I make the promise to you that I will stop you with any means necessary if you should cross any boundary I have."

The words took a gigantic load off of Dick's shoulders and he nearly sagged in relief. Reaching down, he freed his trapped length to the air of the room, flexing it hard a few times before he moved over Damian. Taking two handfuls of his ass, he lifted him up just enough to slide his cock between him and the bed, easing him back down onto it and starting to rock his hips, sliding along his crack. His hands wandered then, roaming over Damian's hips and then across his body to his cock. Palming him in one hand, he began to stroke him, watching what he was doing, the way he looked in his hand as he moved, the way his index finger and thumb glistened with pre-cum after a very shockingly short period of time. 

Damian's hips began to rock, gently pushing his cock into Dick's hand and grinding back down on his length against the bed. The hand behind Dick's neck began to rub lightly, squeezing and massaging as he offered his affection on the matter. Their lips met again and this time it didn't taste of holding back. It was filled with the deepest-seated ache and desire that Dick had ever experienced in his lifetime. The way he needed Damian, it was unlike any other... the way he wanted to crawl right up inside of him and cling to him for the rest of eternity told him all he really needed to know about why he wanted to share this with him. Now that he was here - in the moment - he knew this lustful feeling, the ache he could feel down to his very bones, came from his heart, not just his hormones.

Nipping his lower lip, Dick soothed it with his tongue. Pulling back just the slightest, he caught and held Damian's eyes as he pushed himself forward, leaning past him to pull a small leather pouch off of his dresser. With ease, he opened it and extracted a single condom and a tube of lubricant. He didn't even get his mouth open to ask anything or to share what he wanted before Damian was letting out a relieved-sounding moan beneath him, breathing out, "S'about time..." the slur of his words, the falter in his usual structure spoke deeply and Dick found himself smiling just the slightest bit as he pushed the bag aside.

As he settled back, he dragged his underwear off, shoving them to the floor. Popping open the tube, he smeared some over two digits, glancing up to catch Damian's eyes. "Have you-"

"Yes. To myself." A slow smile spread over Damian's lips and Dick discovered a new thing to appreciate about those lips as it turned into a naughty little smirk. "Thinking about you."

The groan Dick let out wasn't even attempted to be stopped. He shivered faintly, leaning back over Damian, one arm supporting him as he slid the other back behind his balls, slipping down until he found what he was seeking. Pushing lightly with one finger, he rubbed the slick digit around until he slid inside, Damian's body taking him with ease. "Dear God," he whispered, and he heard Damian's breathy laugh.

"I always excel at the subjects I am taught, do I not?"

Dick's heart pounded in his chest and he groaned as Damian's hips rocked against his finger. Again and again, he felt the way Damian's body took him in. Even as he added another finger, it was all with such ease he honestly thought he needn't have even bothered with prepping him first. 

Sliding his fingers out, Dick reached over the side of the bed and snagged his underwear, wiping his fingers off and then tearing open the condom. A little luck and a little lube later, he was back to kneeling between Damian's thighs, one arm caught under Damian and the other holding his upper thigh so gently he could barely register it. They stared one another down for a moment and finally, Dick breathed out, "I need to hear it again." His forehead was creased with his concern, the look in his eyes filled with utter fear.

Damian's hands slid up to his shoulders, caressing the skin there. "Dick Grayson... I can honestly say you are the only person I have ever wanted to have do this to me. And I've desired it for a very long time now."

The smile Dick gave to Damian was nothing short of dazzling. He ducked his head and huffed out a quiet laugh. "That's the longest way I've ever been told 'I want you' in my life. And you know something?" At the quiet hum Damian gave, Dick offered. "It's the only time I've ever _really_ believed it."

Damian pulled Dick down just a little closer, his lips pressing close to his ear, breath hot over the skin there. "You give yourself too little credit for a cocky son of a bitch."

Dick groaned, unable to stop the sound. The evidence of such words coming from Damian wasn't something he was used to and the effect was blatantly obvious. Grasping his hip, Dick eased Damian up and shifted until the tip of his length was pressed right up against Damian's body. His heart pounded and his mind reeled at the idea that this was really about to happen. And then he was pushing in, easing in despite how much he wanted to just thrust in and pound him mercilessly into the sheets, despite how much he wanted to hear Damian's voice screaming for him over and over. No... this first time, he would make sure it was a quiet cry of his name, a gentle ride to the inevitably quick peak for both of them. And next time... all bets were off.

Damian's hands clutched hard at Dick, his breath catching and starting to hitch as Dick started to move. Between them, his cock had leaked a little pool of pre-cum all over his belly, the twitch of his length stringing the sticky substance around. Reaching down, Dick palmed him again, gathering up the slickness and using it to stroke along his length. "You leak so much..." he murmured, voice filled with fascination and relative awe. "Do you always... or just for me?"

"Y-you wish," Damian offered, his leg hitching up behind him even more, holding him tighter against him.

Snapping his hips faster, Dick began to stroke, letting himself whimper just the slightest amount at the feeling of having him around him like this, at the way he felt like Damian's heat would consume him if only he let it. Everything in him was already straining for his end and he would normally have felt really self-conscious about that sort of thing. But right here, right now, with Damian, he only felt a certain amount of absurd pleasure over it. Like he wanted Damian so badly, so _intensely_ , that he could barely stand to hold on for very long.

Damian's fingers dug in harder and his legs moved to part even more, heels digging into the bed as he arched. His hips changed positions and then he gave a sharp shout of Dick's name, panting out, "T-there!" just afterward.

Dick grabbed hold of him, holding him steady as he let himself go finally. Thrusting in hard, he set up a quick pace, desperate to keep that look on Damian's face. He watched the way he spread himself out even more and he breathed out, "You're everything I've ever wanted."

Shivering, Damian let his hands fall down to the bed, pushing slightly under his ass and then he began to move as well, slamming himself down against Dick as best he could from the awkward position. Again and again he did it until his face was contorting into something Dick would never ever forget; the most beautiful of visage on him as he got closer and closer to his end.

Dick slid his hand over the head of Damian's cock, smearing the near-constant dribble of pre-cum around, lightly ringing it just under the tight pull of his foreskin. And that was what pushed Damian over the edge. His hips jerked and his cock strained hard against Dick's hand before he released a sharp cry and began to cum. Dick's heart pounded, his breath barely able to be caught as he watched his lover empty himself all over his own abdomen. Nothing had ever been so incredibly beautiful to him in in entire lifetime and nothing else was ever bound to be, he was certain of that.

Letting himself slide into the desperation he'd felt for far too long, he grabbed Damian's hips, holding him up where he needed him to be to maximize his own pleasure and began to pound into him. It was relentless and entirely founded by the pure _need_ of everything he'd been holding back. The bed protested it and he couldn't have given a damn if he'd managed to break the damn thing right then. The springs squeaked and Dick let out a groan of Damian's name as he really drove himself home a half dozen or so times. Sinking in fully, he stopped, letting his head tip back as ecstasy descended on him. 

It took him a minute or so to come back down from it, to ease himself into being coherent enough to move. When he managed, he reached down to grip the condom, gently pinching it around the base and pulling out. Sliding it off, he pitched it into the trashcan under his bedside table and slid down onto the bed, one leg still between Damian's thighs, arm hooked around his waist. Their lips met and Dick kissed him as sweetly as he knew how to, smiling into it when Damian gave him a light nip.

Dick licked over Damian's lower lip as they parted, his hand already gripping the edge of the sheet to bring it up to clean Damian off. But he caught the movement of Damian's hand on his dresser, finding the tissues, and he smiled, easing himself back and letting him tend to it. "Dami?"

"Hnn?" Damian licked his lips, tossing the tissues into the trash before he settled back, one arm pillowed under his head.

"Thank you... for setting my mind straight on everything. And for telling me I was being an idiot."

"Not once did I speak those actual words." There was a hint of teasing in his tone and Dick felt everything in him warming up to the idea that Damian was showing him pieces of himself he'd probably ever shown another person in the world. 

"Mmm... implied counts. And besides... it worked." Dick tugged the sheet up now, tucking it up around their shoulders as he pulled Damian more fully into his arms, rolling onto his back and letting Damian sink down on top of him. His hips arched up just the smallest amount and he let out a little laugh. "Can't get enough of you... I hope you know you opened up the bottomless pit here."

Damian pushed his hands into Dick's hair, settling himself astride Dick's lap and slowly beginning to rock his hips, a devious look in his eyes. "I'm the teenager here... remember?"

Dick's answering smile was something to marvel and he couldn't stop how much it pulled at his cheeks. "Then I take it round two isn't out of the question?"

"You take it right, _Mr._ Grayson."

Dick let out a little growl, reaching to yank Damian down, capturing his mouth with his own, letting his hunger overtake him. And this time, there were no regrets, no hesitation... and everything began to fall into place.


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song[s]: "Algo Ha Cambiado" by Porta
> 
> I feel the need to warn you, this chapter is DARK. Added tags involve child trafficking, cannibalism, severe gore, genetic modification, and vomit. If you skip it, you'll probably be okay on the main plot.

The night was mild for once, something Dick could reasonably assume that no one in Gotham as used to. It was just above the temperature where he'd see his breath each time he exhaled and just below the area where his costume would be sticking to him in all the most unpleasant ways. Whenever he spent time elsewhere, he always felt for the superheroes who called those places home, knowing they probably had a time of it trying to find fabric that both protected and breathed enough to not let them overheat on the job. His mind drifted over the variety of fabrics and the idea that they might have a network to talk to one another about such things.

The half-smile on his lips had nothing to do with where he and Jason were currently standing and everything to do with the idea of a sewing network for superheroes. 

"Please tell me your dumb-ass look is for something other than what we're about to do..." Jay's voice cut through his thoughts and he shifted on his spot, leaning forward on one hand to peer over the edge and then sliding back into the shadows. 

"Superhero sewing network."

"Wha-" Jason cut himself short, quieting as the van they'd been expecting pulled onto the docks. The rumble of the engine cut a few hundred feet in front of them and the doors rolled up in the back, two men with AKs hopping out. 

Dick vaguely recognized Russian amongst the words being spoken before a woman stepped out of the cab and came around back, motioning to whoever was inside. A frightened chatter of whines and protests came up and one man stuck his gun back into the truck. Dick tensed, starting to stand up, but Jay's hand came to stop him as he gave one shake of his head.

Easing himself back, Dick narrowed his eyes and waited. Five children left the back of the vehicle, lining up at the edge of the dock. The woman with the clipboard went down the line, marking something on it and then going back to the front of the vehicle. A black car pulled around from behind one of the shipping containers, the engine cutting a moment later and a slim man in a suit Dick considered an affront to all suits stepped out. 

There was some discussion too low for them to hear it and then a briefcase exchanged hands before one of the armed men went to open the shipping container, pulling back the doors. The scent of blood and shit was so strong Dick had to hold back his own gag reflex, even this far away. Pulling out his rebreather, he pushed it into his mouth, knowing the last thing he needed was to feel like he was choking on this scent the whole time.

Jay touched his arm and gave a brief gesture to himself and the container, then one to Dick and the other armed guard and then the car. Dick gave a single nod and they both stood and leapt down at the same time. Hitting the ground running, Dick came a few feet from the woman with the clip board. He took her down with one sharp elbow to the head. She hadn't even crumped to the ground before he had the armed guard in a choke hold, the man's gun firing toward the empty building he and Jay had been on a moment earlier. He kept him trained toward it until the clip was empty and then snapped his wrist back hard enough to sprain it. Two pressure points and he kicked him down onto the ground, hissing out, "And stay there," before he was wrenching open the cab of the vehicle, making sure it was clean before bolting off after Jay.

He came to a stop just at the mouth of the shipping container and gagged hard at what he saw. Jason stood just inside of it. The whole floor was coated in a thick grime of every bodily fluid imaginable. Two children crouched at the back of the container and three more lay on the floor, obviously nearly ripped apart. The scent of death made more sense now than it had earlier. The guard who'd opened the container lay against the wall next to Jason, his arm at a strange angle and a bullet hole in his head. The man with the briefcase lay sprawled face-down in the muck, not breathing, though Dick couldn't tell how Jason had fixed that problem.

Another wave of nausea came up and Dick fought it back down, reaching toward Jason, pulling out the rebreather to talk to him. "Hood... come on... I can already hear the sirens. They'll fix it... c'mon."

Jason stood there stiffly and only when Dick touched him did he feel how badly he was trembling. He gritted out a quiet, "They... they killed the others."

And it was then that Dick understood his problem. He didn't know what he should do with the kids; if he should solve a potential future problem and put them out of their misery or if he should leave them to be dealt with. It finally sank in to Dick just what sorts of wars Jason faced every single day... the kind he and Bruce and the others avoided by making the legal system deal with them instead. But when you were the enforcer... when you took it on yourself to find the allowance of life or death... you had to decide where the lines were as well.

"Leave it." Dick tugged lightly at Jason's arm, urging him back with him. "Jay lea-"

One of the kids let out an inhuman scream and threw itself toward them. Claws extended from its fingertips and now Dick could see the fangs on it as well. His hand went to his stunner, flicking open the pouch. But a second later, he found himself so shocked his stomach tried to reverse instantly. Two shots and then there was silence inside the container at last. The kid hit the ground and the one in the back crumpled. 

"J-" he couldn't even get it out before he leaned over and lost it, gagging hard, glad he hadn't eaten in hours. The warmth of Jason's hand settled on his back, just remaining until he stopped. 

Only then did Jason speak up, his voice strong in a way that Dick knew was only a cover for the truth. "We've got to get out of here."

Dick spit a few times and wiped his hand over his mouth before turning away from the scene, leaving it all behind. They did a quick check to make sure the kids were still huddled on the dock and then took off, only seconds away from the first police car arriving.

Dick didn't stop until they were at Jason's place. Only then did he pause for even a second, waiting on Jason to open the door before he was in and bolting to the bathroom. His costume was off in record time, his knees hitting the floor hard in front of the toilet as everything repeated itself for the second time. Trembling, he flushed it away and sat back on his heels, fumbling to get the shower on. 

Hauling himself up from the floor, he stepped into the shower and stood under the slowly warming spray, shaking like a leaf. Nothing about that whole thing had been okay for him and he wasn't entirely sure why it was made worse than anything else he'd been dealing with. The only idea was that it was too recently that he'd had a child of about the same age as his partner out on the streets. Granted, Damian had been far better at protecting himself as one would expect a trained assassin to be. But that changed almost nothing in the way his mind saw it.

His hands fumbled for the gel soap, putting far too much into his hand and nearly dropping the bottle.

The door clicked open, Jason's knuckles only rapping once. The sound of him picking up Dick's suit was louder than it should have been to Dick's ears and he realized he needed to focus on breathing correctly, snapping himself out of it.

The toilet flushed again and Dick heard Jason settle against the counter, imagined the way he'd be leaning there, arms crossed, one leg outstretched. "I did what I had to do..."

"I know." Dick started washing the gel off of his skin, the water growing hotter and hotter by the moment, though he ignored it.

"They... they ate-"

"I know!" Dick cut him off, realizing his breathing had escalated again and he fought for control of it. "God, I know, Jay... it's... you... what you did was right."

They were silent for a minute while Dick washed his hair and then finally shut off the shower. He pulled back the curtain and found Jason exactly how he'd pictured him, still fully suited up except his boots. "You're upset... not because of the children, but because... you couldn't have done it." He lifted his head, meeting Dick's gaze head-on. "Am I right?"

Dick's jaw worked for a moment before he gave a single, abrupt nod and snatched up a towel, giving himself a once-over and then hooking it around his waist, skirting past Jason, careful not to brush up against him.

He leaned over the counter, looking in the mirror as Jason stripped himself of his own outfit, adding it to the pile with Dick's own. "It's not... something I take lightly. I won't lie to you. I was torn and beyond horrified. But... I also think it was necessary given what they had become. Whatever they did to them, they weren't... children anymore."

Dick bowed his head, gripping the edge of the sink tightly. "I am not disagreeing with you and I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Fine." Jason stepped into the shower, his voice hard when he spoke again. "Just bury it away, just like Bruce does. See how far that gets you."

For the first time in a very long time, Dick could read the anger in Jason's voice, the way he still held a grudge against Bruce no matter how much he tried to let it go. And some things would never, ever change... like the pang in Dick's chest that spoke of regret, of sadness, and of loss. And in an instant, it hit him why he'd really been so torn over what had just happened. Sinking down onto the toilet lid, he buried his face in his hands, barely whispering out, "It's because of you... because of losing you. I've not dealt well with kids being in danger ever since then, Jay-bird." He shoved one hand forcefully through his hair and sighed as he closed his eyes. "It makes me run scared on everything to do with kids... makes me think I'm going to mess it all up and-"

"Stop." Dick jerked his head up, staring at the shower curtain as Jason sighed on the other side. "Jesus, Dick... you're not the one who fucked up on that. You know that, right?"

"I... took his side, Jay." He barely choked out the words.

Jason was silent for a moment before the curtain pulled back and their eyes met. He disappeared again a second later. "You think I didn't know that? If you hadn't, Joker would be dead."

"But... you're not angry at me. Why?"

"I wasn't _your_ partner or your responsibility. I was Bruce's." The shower shut off and Jason pulled back the curtain, stepping out and grasping the other towel, starting to dry off. 

Dick couldn't help but notice the newer scars on Jason's body, the ones that hadn't been there the before he'd left and he had to school his face in order not to wince away from an obvious bullet wound that was a little too close to his heart for Dick's comfort. Studying the floor, he managed a tiny shrug. "I feel like... no, I know we made a mistake somewhere, Jay. And-"

Jason was there in a moment, his finger tipping Dick's chin upward, forcing him to meet his eyes. "Stop it. Your mind is spinning what happened out there tonight into a hundred other things. You've always been good at that... but not tonight, okay, pretty bird? If it's what you need to hear... I forgave you a long time ago. And it's Bruce I have to re-forgive every single day. It takes a lot, but I do it. Every single time." His fingers ghosted down Dick's neck and he backed up then, offering him a quirky sort of smile. "I could turn your world upside down with a few words and you'd never see it coming, Dickie-bird. But... I won't." He patted his shoulder and turned away, exiting the small bathroom, leaving him behind, his voice trailing after him. "Get some damn clothes on. You know where they are."


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song[s]: "「OMINOUS」(Promo Ver.)" by the GazettE

Dick sat on the edge of his bed, safe at home after the rest of the somewhat trying night of patrol once he'd left Jason's. He slowly rolled his phone from one hand to the other, debating calling Damian to see if he wanted to come stay for the night. Something was still nagging at him and it left him feeling slightly off-kilter; like there was something dire that he was missing.

Finally, he turned his phone over and thumbed in the passcode. Three more keystrokes and he pulled up Damian's number, hitting the call button and flipping it to speaker phone. Flopping back onto the bed, he placed the phone on his chest and waited, counting the rings. On the last one, he let a small frown crease his features. Perhaps Damian was still out on patrol. He took in a breath, ready to leave a message when a slightly out of breath voice crackled over the line. "Hey."

Blinking at his phone, he smiled and let his gaze travel back to the roof. "Hey yourself, gorgeous... just calling to see if you wanted to come spend the night over here."

There was a moment in which Damian was still obviously fighting for his breath and then, "Or you could come here."

Dick could feel his eyebrow hitch slightly at that, confusion lacing through him. So far they'd avoided so much as doing more than hugging at the mansion as much as possible, not wanting to force Bruce into having to deal with what was going on between them. But for Damian to ask for him to come there... meant he probably had something bigger he wanted to deal with. And who was he to deny him, even if he was especially tired? "Yeah, I'll be there in a bit. May take me a few, I'm already dressed for bed."

"Do not change." Dick could almost hear the smile in Damian's voice. "Bring more clothing." The line disconnected and Dick shook his head a little, reaching to turn off the screen of his phone, stretching until his back cracked faintly, and then pushing himself upright. He slid his feet into some slip-on loafers and picked up his overnight bag, which he always kept stocked up for emergencies. 

Nearly half an hour later, he arrived at the mansion, making his way up the steps and offering Alfred a friendly pat when he opened the door for him. 

"Master Damian is in his room."

"Thanks." Dick padded up the stairs and down the hallway to Damian's bedroom, tapping lightly on the door and then pushing it open. Stepping inside, he found it already dark, the curtains drawn to even keep out the moonlight. Ditching his shoes, he settled his bag down and unzipped his hoodie. Tossing it over the back of the chair he could faintly make out on his left, he shut the door, and murmured, "Dami?"

The bed creaked slightly under Damian's weight and Dick hear the covers being moved around. "Here..."

Padding across the room, Dick found his way to the bed and eased himself down on it, rolling in toward Damian, hooking one leg behind Damian's ankles and sliding his arm over his waist. Damian's heat radiated from him, warming Dick up the instant the covers were pushed over him. The hand on his hip urged him closer and he shifted his hips, bringing himself in full contact with him, his breath hitching as he felt the full press of Damian's arousal against him. His hand shifted to hold onto Damian's hip, thumb lightly circling the skin there as he found him utterly devoid of clothing. Tipping his head down, he sought out Damian's lips, sealing them with his own an instant later. 

Damian surged up to meet him, his hips starting to rock as he breathed out a quiet little sound against Dick's lips.

Dick could already feel the fragile amount of control he had over himself slipping away. Even in the face of the real possibility that Bruce could overhear them, that he would know just what Dick was doing to his son a few rooms down the hallway, he was powerless to resist Damian now. Having given in once just wasn't nearly enough and if he was honest, he wasn't sure any amount of times would ever be considered "enough". 

His hand moved to splay over the small of Damian's back, holding him more in place as his hips surged forward, rocking as his arousal rapidly grew between them. Damian's tongue slid over his lower lip and he parted them to let him in, tasting him a moment later. The faintest hint of cinnamon clung to him and Dick found himself nearly licking it from Damian's mouth as he continued the gentle pace of his hips. 

Soon enough, Damian's hands were pushing at Dick's clothing, trying to strip him of it, and Dick could find no reason not to let him. He shifted just enough to help him with it, his shirt hitting the floor and then his pants gliding down his hips, being pushed to the floor by Damian's feet a moment later. Dick shifted them then, rolling Damian over onto his back and easing between his thighs. He slid one hand up along Damian's side, following the line of his hips, over his waist... along his ribs and then over the dip of his armpit and up along his arm until he found his hand. Their fingers curled between one another and Dick shifted, intent to ease some of his ache like he had last time, just to toy with Damian, rub himself against where he really wanted to bury his cock... to make the younger whine for it. But the instant he slid along the cleft of his ass, he found it slick with lube and nothing in the world could have stopped him short of an actual command from Damian in that moment. 

His free hand hitched Damian's hips upward and with a single rock of his hips, he entered him, sliding all the way in with one, long thrust. Fully seated within him, he let out a quiet groan, cradling Damian's smaller body against his own in complete adoration as he tried to get a grasp on his mind. His brain ran through the reasons why Damian would have been slick with lube like this and all of them held their appeal. The idea that he'd interrupted Damian's alone time was forefront, the one he wanted to be the truth so much that the sheer idea alone forced a jerky movement of his hips and a tiny cry from Damian. Then there was the idea that he'd prepped himself for Dick, hoping that this would happen. And that, too, was an entirely pleasant image. 

Spreading his legs enough to get some good leverage out of it, Dick began to move, his hips rocking against Damian's body, cock plunging into his the tight grip of his body again and again. Letting his head hang, bangs falling in his face, Dick let go of the idea of holding back in even the slightest. His breath came in pants already and his heart thudded excitedly in his chest. Even the feeling of the sheets pooling around his thighs and ass urged him onward, the slight slide of them against his skin a nice touch to the whole thing. 

Damian's free hand came to hold onto his shoulder, his grip tight, but not overly so. Not enough to hurt. Dick turned his head, pressing feather-light kisses to Damian's wrist. The smallest of gasps freed itself from Damian at the action and Dick let a smile curve his lips as he let his tongue swipe over the area. A little nip and then he sucked on the skin there, feeling his own arousal ramp upward as Damian began a steady litany of whines and whimpers beneath him.

Sitting up, Dick pulled Damian into position tight against him and then hunched back down enough to get ahold of his wrist once again. This time he pressed his mouth fully against the inside of his wrist and began to kiss it as if he were trying to explore Damian's mouth for the first time all over again. His hips made quick little jerks against Damian's body, his arousal already pooling heavy in his groin. He sucked hard at Damian's wrist and listened as his name fell from his lips, as Damian breathed it over and over, the lilt of his voice changing steadily toward something far needier, verging on desperate.

His teeth grazed the area and Damian came undone beneath him, giving a quiet cry as his hips jerked up hard off the bed, his thighs quivering with how hard he strained. And then Damian was pulsing around his cock and Dick had never lost control faster in his entire life. Dropping Damian's wrist, he grabbed his hips and held on for dear life as he fucked him hard. Every stroke of his cock brought him nearly out of his body and plunged him so fully back in that the bed was jerking with the motion of it. Skin slapped hard against skin and Dick could barely hold back the myriad of moans and grunts that wanted free.

Releasing a low growl of Damian's name, Dick plunged in once more and stilled, his cock quivering for a second before he lost it. Another aborted attempt at a thrust and he was cumming deep inside of his lover's body. Dick was never so reckless with any other lover he'd ever been with. But with Damian... it was like he knew it would never matter. He'd never willingly be with anyone else and he knew Damian hadn't... and wouldn't. 

Curling protectively over Damian, his hips gave a few more little thrusts, earning himself a quiet, "Grayson," from Damian's lips, this one spoken in a way that told Dick he was loved and adored in a way that could never have been fully described. His lips pressed to Damian's ear and he breathed out, "My precious little Wayne..."

Damian's breathy laugh came quietly to him and then his hands were skimming down his sides, leaving Dick feeling almost ticklish. "You only get away with the little comment once."

"Mmm... I'll keep that in mind." His lips sought and found Damian's own, kissing him sweetly. Pulling back, he eased out of his body and eased down onto his side, Damian rolling to press against him, their legs intertwining. Dick pressed his nose up under Damian's jaw, gently kissing along his neck and over his Adam's apple, hiding his smile away there. "Daring... doing this here..."

"Not... any more so... than anywhere else." Damian's fingers gripped his biceps hard and a little whine bubbled up from his throat, his hips rocking against Dick's stomach. "Unless you are planning round two... stop."

Dick gave his Adam's apple one more nip and then kissed the spot to soothe it, nuzzling instead. "I could... but I fear we'd wake someone up." He shifted back into the little nest of pillows Damian kept and let himself ease down from the arousal burning in his gut. "Tell me... did I interrupt you earlier?"

Damian was quiet for a moment and then, "With the phone call... yes."

Dick let out a soft moan, his hand moving up to spear into Damian's hair, shifting them until he could seal his mouth over Damian's own, kissing him so completely he could feel it all the way down to his toes. Shivering faintly, he let him go, licking over his bottom lip and then grinning against his mouth. "Remind me of that in the morning and we'll see where it gets you." He could feel Damian's answering smile against his lips and his heart lifted, knowing how many of these he was drawing out of him and wondered if he'd ever grow tired of having this ability.

Pecking his lips again, he rolled slightly onto his back and closed his eyes. "Mmm... Grayson rest now."

Damian snorted, coming to curl up next to his side. "I believe this is the part where Jason would call you a 'dork'. Is it not?"

Another lazy smile curved Dick's lips, even as he was already starting to drift. "Yeah... it is."


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song[s]: "Insatiable" by Darren Hayes (this seems to be their song, seriously lol) / "Bokunosei" by ADAMS / "我、闇とて・・・" by Dir en grey
> 
> Just a head's up, time has been an ugly little disaster and hence the slower updates. I WILL NOT abandon this, I promise. I'm hardcore about wanting to finish it. In fact... I know exactly how many chapters are left. ;) Finally!

The only sounds in the room were the sounds of metal forks hitting the china Alfred had chosen to set out with their breakfast. Outside, the light patter of rain afforded them some amount of background noise where discussion ceased to exist. Neither Dick nor Damian had said a thing so far, mostly because of how Bruce was eyeballing them over his plate of eggs and toast. 

Damian had glanced Dick's way one time at the very start of the meal, giving him what Dick could only decipher as being a sheepish look, one that he read to mean Damian was assuming the same thing he was about this whole situation. _Bruce knew_. He'd had to have heard them the evening before and nothing in the world was going to make that a comfortable conversation. And Dick would have been foolish to think there wouldn't be a conversation at some point over it. After all, Bruce had made it such a habit to be so utterly involved in their relationship until recently that he was certain bringing it under his roof was going to trigger something; somehow, some way.

Dick took another forkful of his eggs, shoving the last bit of toast in after it, chewing and swallowing. The rest of his water followed and he settled back, wiping his mouth with the linen napkin and placed it down beside his plate, flicking a glance to Damian and then his eyes toward the backyard to give him an escape route. 

Damian finished up a minute later, standing up rather abruptly. "I am going to allow Titus some exercise." With that, he was off toward the other room, calling out Titus' name.

Shifting to lean forward on his forearms, Dick finally chanced another look at Bruce, finding his gaze fully planted on him. Their eyes met and Dick felt instantaneously smaller, as if he'd lost every ounce of height he'd earned in all the years since he'd been Robin, as if his very being were shrinking back under the all-too-readable look Bruce was giving him. 

He didn't even get the chance to _think_ about opening his mouth before Bruce was speaking. "Would you, perhaps, keep it down next time you decide to bed my son under my own roof?"

Dick nearly wanted to flinch away from it, but he didn't. Instead, he squared his shoulders and let his body language bestow his feelings toward Bruce for the moment. Once he'd let it sink in, he finally spoke up, his voice level and utterly devoid of apology. "I won't tell you I'm sorry, because I'm not. There's a natural progression to any relationship and this course... it was inevitable. You knew that from the start." He shifted, turning sideways in his chair and crossing his legs, one settling across the other, one arm easing over the back of his chair. "I'll grant we weren't quiet... but we weren't loud either. _Trust me_ , we could have been much louder than that."

Dick held Bruce's gaze until Bruce had to turn away from it. He watched Bruce's eyes find the tablecloth, flit over the dishes, and then finally land on the wall somewhere behind his head. He let a smirk slide over his lips. "Consider it payback for all those times I could hear you nailing some girl in your bedroom while I was trying to sleep. Oh... and how many times I didn't do a damn thing here, no matter how many people I slept with. I could have made your life a living hell for years, Bruce. But I didn't... and I'm not aiming to now, either. But the fact is... this is his home as much as it is yours."

Pushing himself up from the chair, Dick easily slid his hands into his pockets and then let his face light up with a smile as he cocked his hip a bit, trying his best to look utterly at ease. "If it bothers you that much... he could always stay more often at my place. But I was under the impression you didn't want that to happen just yet."

Bruce's eyes met Dick's own in an instant, the depths of them unreadable, almost hard, nearly angry... but somehow not. A single blink and it was all gone, just the barest hint of whatever it had been lingering. "He is already yours in more ways than you appear to understand." Standing up, Bruce pushed in his chair and rested his hands on the back of it, gazing down at his mostly eaten breakfast. "These choices, they have never been my own and never will be. If that's what he wants - what you want - then it is what will happen. If you will not reign yourself in under my roof - when I ask only for the _sound_ of it to lessen - then perhaps you will consider encouraging me to take my time in the cave before you proceed."

Dick hesitated for a moment and then let himself roll his eyes under the guise of a blink, shaking his head as he breathed out a sigh. "Fine... you're so dramatic over sex. You'd think after the amount of people throwing themselves at you, you might understand what a sex drive is." He started past Bruce, skirting around the one chair that had separated them, only to have Bruce's hand shoot out and grasp his elbow, dragging him into his personal space.

Nothing had caught Dick off guard about Bruce in a _very_ long time. But this did. The instant he was there, Bruce's fingers digging into his arm and his breath hot against his ear, Dick found he was utterly frozen to the spot. He couldn't find his way through the jumble of thoughts to even comprehend what was happening. No explanation readily presented itself and he could only wait, one hand on the back of the chair he'd been going around and one clutching at Bruce's elbow in return for the one holding onto him. His heart thumped hard in his chest and he could feel the desire to shiver crawling under his skin, though he didn't give in.

"Understand that there are consequences for every action you take; things you cannot control, things even I cannot control. And all of these are things I do not wish to have happening when it is my _son_ you are with." Bruce released him in a way that felt somehow harsher than the hold itself had been. And in an instant, he was gone, in the manner of Batman rather than Bruce, leaving Dick standing alone in the dining room, shock filtering through his system.

Reaching up, he pushed a hand through his hair and breathed out a quiet little sigh, his hand shaking just the slightest as he did so. So this was how it felt... to know Bruce still wanted him. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't pleasant either. Instead, he just felt vaguely ill at ease. Swallowing the feeling down, he took a deep breath and made a mental note to either keep it down or know for damn sure they were putting Bruce in a none-too-great position if they didn't. 

Stepping around the chair, Dick made a beeline for the backdoor, intent to join Damian and Titus... and to get a little air after a revelation of such magnitude.

Stepping out into the light drizzle, Dick didn't bother with a jacket the way Damian clearly had. He could see Titus' form bolting off after a ball Damian had just thrown and he smiled a little as he stepped up next to Damian, his hands pushed tight in his pockets as he gazed out over the grounds. He could feel Damian's eyes on him and then the lack thereof.

"He told you then."

Dick turned his head, watching the frame of Damian's face as he knelt to hold out his hand for Titus' ball. "He heard." But something about the way Damian had said that told Dick that wasn't at all what he'd been talking about.

Damian tossed the ball and stood again, wiping his hand on his pants and turning more toward Dick. For the first time in a very long time, the silence was almost uncomfortable between them and when he finally spoke up again, Dick was relieved. "About his own emotions."

Flinching slightly, Dick gave a single nod and then eased his stance a fraction. "About as outright as Bruce gets... yes." Dick looked toward Titus, who was barrelling down on them. At the light flick of Damian's wrist, the dog dropped the ball and galloped off toward the hedges behind Dick, leaving them alone for the moment. "You knew then... that this wasn't entirely over for him."

A small, sad sort of smile curved Damian's lips as he took a step in toward Dick, one hand reaching up to meander over the curve of Dick's throat. "This will never end for him. It is you we are speaking of. And you..." Damian's fingers slid up, over his jaw and then pressed lightly against his lips. "You are not someone anyone simply forgets."

Dick reached up, capturing Damian's fingers, shifting to press a light kiss to his palm and then rested his cheek against his hand, sliding his hold down to his wrist. "Are you telling me you'll love me forever?"

The very slightest hint of a flush slid over Damian's cheeks, just enough to tinge his gorgeous complexion as he released a soft, "-tt-" and did his very best to duck his head.

Dick hid his grin away against Damian's palm, kissing the skin once more. "So, gorgeous... I think it's well past time we get in out of the rain, don't you?"

"Perhaps." Damian tugged his hand away and turned, giving a sharp order of, "Titus, come!" The dog bolted toward them and stopped just beside Damian, alert and waiting as Damian transferred his hand to Titus' head, gently patting him. 

"Alfred's not gonna like the mess." Dick opened the back door just as it started to pour, all three of them stepping inside.

Alfred stood just a few feet back, three towels draped over his arms. "Alfred certainly is not." He handed one to Dick, one to Damian, and then knelt to start drying off Titus, who simply stood there, not shaking off like most dogs would have done. "Master Dick... you are wanted in the cave. Alone."

Normally Dick would have thought nothing of it, but this time he felt adrift - on edge - as he made his way through the manor and then down into the cave. Coming to a stop behind Bruce's chair at the computer, he studied the huge screens. A myriad of scans were running in one pane, the other holding statistics on all of the people he and Jason had run into over the past few months. 

He let one hand rest on the back of the chair, the other curving lightly around the side, fingers playing with the soft leather just enough to distract himself from the anger he felt so deep down inside for what he and Jason had seen. For what they had killed for... and yes, no matter how he looked at it, _they_ had been in it together. Every single one of those deaths were worn upon his shoulders just as much as Jason's own and he damn well knew it.

"Are you aware just how much you radiate anger and regret in moments like these?" Bruce's voice was quiet now, a gentle edge to it that Dick had almost forgotten Bruce was capable of. Sometimes it was easy to overlook the times that Bruce was entirely more capable than any of them in the department of understanding how it felt to be confronted with situations such as the ones at hand.

He eased his grip just the slightest on the chair and closed his eyes, blocking out the image of Jason taking out the last two they'd had to that evening. One long breath inward and he gave a small shake of his head. "Only to you..."

"Not just to me." Bruce shifted faintly in the chair, just enough Dick took note of the gentle shift. "It is off the screen."

Opening his eyes, Dick came around, forcing himself to be more at ease than he was. Sliding up onto the table, even under Bruce's disapproving look, he folded his hands in his lap and met his mentor's - his adoptive father's - gaze head-on.

They sat in silence - just like that - for a long time, longer than either would be likely to admit at any later date. Sometimes it had to be like this for them to understand one another. Sometimes silence was the path to true understanding; to just watch someone, read the lines of their face, the depths of their eyes, the things laid out like a roadmap over their every action, every _reaction_. And while Bruce was the master of hiding it all away, when Dick gave his all to doing this in just such a way, Bruce would let his mask down just enough to give him a hint of where his mind was traveling.

By the time Dick shifted himself back, leaning back on his palms against the desk, his head tipping back, he was sure they'd probably been down here near on an hour already. But the sense of relief he felt left him feeling freer than he had in a very long time. He had seen all he needed to in Bruce's demeanor: the lack of blame over all the things that had happened, the affection he still felt for him, the love he held for his entire family, and the concern of both a father and a protective figure. He saw forgiveness and he saw pain... and he knew his own emotions, his own body, had displayed a hundred things to Bruce in the duration of their lack of discourse. 

"You did what had to be done... you and Jason both did." Bruce's benevolent words exactly what Dick needed to hear.

"Have you found any other associations?" Dick found himself finally able to turn toward the business end of things, his emotions out of it now that he'd gained what he'd needed to.

"You're not going to like it." Bruce reached to press a few keys, a whole new set of files pulling up, another desktop of sorts and another modification that Dick was nearly certain Tim or Damian were to thank for.

Hopping down from the table, he turned toward the screens, his eyes flicking over each image and file in turn, following the path Bruce had set out for him. Dread began to form in the pit of his stomach and he could feel the icy cold fingers of a pain long-encased coming back up, threatening to choke him. He forced it all back down like so much bile he'd choked back in the past, the discomfort of it perhaps more than any of those had been.

His eyes lingered on the last pane, the final two files and a singular image, the glint of a white mask in the sea of darkness behind he and Jason. Ugly pinpricks of something he could only half describe as fear came rolling over him as he remembered a dozen run-ins, as he felt every wound like it was happening all over again, and as he recalled a promise spoken in the desperate heat of a moment, in an agonizing bid to save everyone's life but his own.

When he spoke the words, they came out clipped, shortened by this angry snake that had begun to work its way upwards from the pit of his stomach. "The Court." A sense of dread filled the room and he could feel everything he'd built, everything he'd hoped and dreamed for shattering somewhere deep inside of him.


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song[s]: "RED SOIL" by Dir en grey

Every puff of air from Dick's lungs left him in a cold little cloud. The Gotham air tonight was far beyond anything Dick was used to during this time of the year. He shifted on the ledge, shivering faintly, even behind the protection of his suit. Part of him knew that some piece of this had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with what he had come here to do... what he _had_ to do.

Below him in the alleyway, he watched another of Gotham's elite step out of a car, mask already in place, the gleaming white of the Court's signature mask glinting beneath the single light over the door they entered into. He kept himself in the shadows still, watching as the steady stream of people continued.

It had been a week since he'd found this spot, some amount of sheer luck going into it. He'd been helping Damian for the night when they'd found one of the Talons. He'd bolted, but not before Damian had managed to land a solid blow that injected a fourteen hour tracker into his bloodstream. And when he'd gone home... they'd seen where without following him a single step. Teamwork at its finest, really.

Easing his back against the brick again, he stifled the urge to shudder at the slimy feel of the slick moss-grown surface behind him.

The cars stopped arriving for some period of time and Dick finally slipped down off the roof, avoiding the single well-hidden camera and quietly opening the door. He pulled his escrima sticks free of their holsters, the same action triggering every sense he had into high alert. It was instinct at this point... something he couldn't have stopped if he'd tried. Holding them meant danger and danger meant being alert or being dead in this line of work.

The trip down the corridor was easy, no one left within it. A small room to the left bestowed him with the ability to get a robe and a mask if he wanted it. But he left them behind, wanting nothing to do with taking on such a foul thing if he could help it. Another round of passages and he could hear the voices of the Court. A deliberation on if they should continue the trials on the children after Nightwing and Red Hood had intervened in such a manner on the docks. The what-if of it more than just 'Batman and his cronies' got involved, given the magnitude of what they were doing.

Dick waited out the voices, lingering in the shadows of the hallway just outside the archway that lead to the main room they were all within. He couldn't see them just yet, but that meant they couldn't see him either and he was okay with that.

The conversation continued, a vote being taken, and they decided to continue with the trials for now, a new round of 'brats' to be picked up from the orphanages and the streets over the course of the next week. 

Anger flushed through Dick, hot and unstoppable. He was out within a second, assessing the room in a single glance. Throwing one stick right into the head of the man standing behind the single man at the podium, Dick didn't even hesitate to extract one of Damian's throwing knives from his belt. A second later, it was embedded in the head of the podium-man and he went down hard, hitting the floor with a thud, his eyes wide open and his jaw slack, making it clear Dick had either killed him or lobotomized him in an instant. 

He felt no remorse this time, no anguish over the taking of a life. And just as he'd known, it was growing easier and easier to kill; the hesitation taken out of it last time and now the self-loathing removed as well. 

People began to flee and Dick drew another short knife, sheathing his other escrima stick. The moment the first wave of people hit him, the blood bath began. He could feel their hair as he gripped it in one hand, the slick slide of blood over his fist as he slit throats and took upward thrusts into their chest cavities without a single moment of thought to it. 

It felt like hours of chaos before he was kneeling beside the last man, the one he'd taken down with his escrima stick at the very beginning. He brought the knife to his throat and dragged the blade across it, watching the blood bubble up and over his hand, hearing the last gurgle of breath leaving this man's body as he died in Dick's arms like so many before him. 

Lifting his head, he met his reflection in the mirror. Blood spattered his face and neck, the front of his suit was drenched in enough blood it looked oil-slick under the flickering light of the multitude of flames along the walls. His fingers came to peel his mask away and the moment he caught sight of his eyes, he could feel his very heart stop beating within his chest. 

Cold... dead... utterly devoid of emotion. 

The mirror cracked right down the center with a loud snapping sound and agony lanced through his cheek. He tilted his head back and began to scream, the sound filled with every horror under the sun, filled with everything he had ever dreaded.

_And then there was blackness._

\--------

Sucking in a huge breath, Dick nearly bolted upright in his bed. Hands grappled with him, holding him in place and for a moment, Dick fought them out of blind fear. He was still there, still in the Court with all of that death that he'd caused all around him and now the souls were coming back to take him, to hold onto him and drag him down to Hell right along with him.

"Grayson, stop!" Damian's voice cut through the madness like a gunshot and he stilled instantly. Panting for his breath, he took stock of the situation, finding his hands holding hard onto Damian's forearms, one knee pulled up and pushed against Damian's chest. His shoulders were pinned down and Damian's weight was hard against him, as if he were trying his best to pin him with his smaller weight. 

He collapsed back against the bed, feeling the sticky wetness of the sheets beneath him, telling him he'd been in the midst of the terror-sweats for far too long. His mind grappled with how Damian was here, with the why of it, and he came up empty.

The last thing he remembered was coming in from patrol, taking a much-needed shower, and then collapsing in bed... _alone_. Damian had com-lined him to let him know he was needed with Batman for the evening and Dick hadn't argued in the slightest. It happened sometimes, one direction or the other, that one or the other needed someone to back them up far more than the other needed a roaming partner for the night. And neither of them ever argued as to where Damian was going. 

"How," he managed, his voice cracked enough that he knew he'd been screaming in his sleep.

Damian began to gently move Dick around, shifting his leg away and then the hands gripping his arms so tightly still. "I came after patrol... been here for a few hours. You started screaming about five minutes ago." 

Dick gave a little nod, lying there spread-eagle, waiting his heart-rate out for the time being. Finally, he managed, "The Court... I killed them all." 

And Damian was there in an instant, straddling his hips, his hands sliding up over Dick's chest and coming to rest on his shoulders. "You didn't. But even if you did, they deserve it." 

Damian's voice was still slightly thick with sleep and Dick didn't miss the slight variance in how his lover was talking to him right then. His hands came up, settling on Damian's hips, finding him devoid of clothing, something that curved his lips into a small smile in the darkened room. His fingertips explored, gently mapping out Damian's hipbones and then down over his upper thighs and back up, traveling over his toned abdomen and then down... down... until his fingers slid over Damian's length, lightly grasping the base of it and starting slow, lazy strokes toward the tip.

The feeling of it starting to harden in his grasp was everything he wanted... everything he needed in that moment. His heart thudded for another reason and his mind raced in another direction completely, allowing him to forget the pain of what he'd just seen in his dreams for the moment. A lot of sex had been like this for Dick; a pathway to his own mental freedom. 

Much to Damian's credit, he simply went along with it, not questioning it in the slightest as Dick explored his body, steadily working him up until he was rocking his hips against Dick's hand. And, Dick thought, nothing was ever going to compare to having Damian in these moments, to being the one to see him let his control slip away like this. So gentle and delicate, so utterly _divine_.

Damian stretched over Dick, reaching for the nightstand and when he came back, Dick expected to be handed something, but he wasn't. Instead, he was left to continue to explore Damian's body, to shift him until he was working his own hardened cock against Damian's own with the smallest rocks of his hips, until he was holding Damian's hips so hard he was sure to leave bruises just because of how utterly filled with desire he was.

Soon enough, he was rocking against Damian, his eyes closed and his hands skimming up his sides, his arousal growing by the instant. But it didn't last long before Damian was shifting, leaning forward over him and then reaching down to hold his length, stilling Dick in an instant as he realized what was about to happen.

Heat slammed through him, pooling low in his gut, and he rocked his hips upward and flexed his cock, waiting, his breath hitching. Damian moved then and Dick could feel everything about the moment in ways he hadn't ever quite thought to address. He felt the tenseness of Damian's muscles, the way his thighs quivered just-so as he lowered himself onto him. He felt his body clench around him and then the slight flutter as Damian forced himself to relax... and then he was inside so fully he thought he'd never have another coherent thought in his lifetime.

His hips surged and Damian met the movement with a roll of his own, bringing a soft cry from Dick's lips as they worked together, once again in perfect tandem. The ease of their union was something Dick had never experienced with another lover. With Damian it was like they could read what the other was going to do just as well here as they did in the field. Each thrust, each roll of their hips choreographed just far enough in advance that they knew where it was going but never far enough ahead to let anyone else ever have a prayer of catching up. 

Even when Dick began to fall apart, when he stopped being able to think his way through it and only _felt_ , he could still find the power of their union. Their needs equaled and judged. His hand eased back around Damian's length, once again marveling that he was allowed to finally feel him like this, that he could take him in hand when he wanted and work him up until he fell apart in his arms. He let Damian's pre-cum slick over his palm and he spread it over his length, holding his hand still and letting Damian do most of the moving now, letting him ride him hard, his hips jerking in a way that shoved his cock through Dick's slickened fist, giving him something to fuck at the same time.

And for an instant, he saw it, saw someone else hovering over him, saw Damian thrusting into them as Dick thrust into him. Jealousy flushed hot over him and Dick let out a faint growl, his hand starting to jerk Damian off faster than he'd intended, a hard possessiveness taking over his actions. 

Above him, Damian released a tiny cry of pleasure, his hips rocking hard and his cock hardening that last fraction in Dick's hand, letting him know he was about to cum. Dick kept his pace, thrusting up hard into Damian's body, eager... desperate... and still utterly trying to claim him, to lay his branding on him forever. 

Damian whimpered over him and then let out a choked half-cry of Dick's name before his hips snapped forward and he was losing it, the warmth of his release splashing all over Dick's abdomen.

Dick rolled them then, spreading Damian's thighs and plunging in hard and quick, his pace more brutal than he intended, his fists in the sheets at Damian's sides to keep from hurting him further with his punishing grip. Each movement jarred the bed and huffed breath from Damian's lungs. 

Dick kept going, the burn of his impending orgasm working its way through him. He could feel how tight his own balls were, how drawn up against him they were, and he knew it was going to be one of the most powerful orgasms he'd ever had. Never had he let himself claim someone like this... never had he allowed his every single emotion to get the better of him in these moments. But now - here with Damian - he could find no reason to hold any of it back. This man - his lover, his confidant, his partner, his _Robin_ \- meant more to him than his own existence did. 

And it was that thought that sent him hurdling over the edge, that wrenched half-sobbed words of affection from his throat as he slammed in hard and began to fill Damian - to mark him as his own. Because, in that moment, that was how he was thinking of it. Every thrust thereafter was only to cement the idea of it, to seal this pact he was making with him.

By the time he managed to get a full grip on himself again, he was hunched over Damian, still deep inside of him, and his arms were wrapped around him. His face was buried against Damian's neck, his eyes closed, and he could feel the dampness of their sweat and cum... and another sort of dampness falling easily down his cheeks. 

Damian's hands stroked slow circles over his lower back and Dick took in a shuddered half-breath, licking his lips and then breathing out, "No matter what happens, no matter how this ends-"

"Don't. Do not talk about the Court like they are the end. We defeat people, Dick Grayson. We win and we will win this one, too. _Together_." Damian forced him to pull back, his hands hard on his face, his lips harder when they pushed against his own and for the first time, Dick realized this was how Damian claimed him in return. All of these kisses, these promises... the vows to protect him at every single cost. _This_ was how Damian staked his claim, how he took possession over the moment and demanded his equality within it all.

And with this... he held no argument because he couldn't think of another person he would have wanted at his side. Not now, not ever.


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song[s]: Asylum (album) by Disturbed

Dick could feel a cramp slowly starting up his leg. It was rare that this sort of thing happened to them after so long of doing this, after so many hours and years spent doing whatever needed to be done. But sometimes... when the goal of the night was sitting still somewhere and watching, waiting, it was almost an inevitability. The hours spent crouched somewhere, tense and alert tended to wear more on the muscles than the constant movement did.

Wincing slightly, Dick shifted just the smallest amount, slowly easing his leg out to his side tipping his foot back and holding the position in a way built to make the cramp stop. His hand shifted on the ledge of the building and he leaned back just enough to see the rooftop across the street. He was about half a story lower than the adjacent roof and he kept periodically checking it, making sure he wasn't being watched as he was doing the watching.

His eyes flicked back to the window across the street and he watched as the woman - a member of the Court - hung up the phone. Dick would listen to that conversation later, his equipment recording it back to his garage. It was something he'd learned to like better than Bruce's in-the-moment method. Something about focusing only on the here and now and not on whatever was being planned forced the situation in a different direction.

He slid his leg back under him and moved to let the other stretch out instead, watching the woman as she pulled up her computer, the monitors far too big to be facing the windows the way they were. Foolish, at best. He squinted, seeing her log into a website, the page all black with a white owl at the top. No markings other than that and the username and password field. 

The screen pulled up and he could see a sea of text, but couldn't read any of it as she began to scroll very slowly, as though reading it all. He shifted again, peering up at the neighboring roof, just in time to see the sweep of gold and green, the glint of red and then whisper of black right behind. 

Jumping at the chance to see something else for a few minutes, Dick stood and took a few steps back, making a running leap at the opposite building, flinging himself over the edge and landing gracefully on the opposite rooftop. Rushing off after them, he caught up two buildings later, Batman having paused, Robin hanging back slightly. 

Dick hit his com and flicked it over to the one he and Damian shared as he eased behind the AC unit closest to them. "Don't speak... behind the unit to your right." His words were but a whisper of breath and he could almost sense Damian's tenseness and then his ease. 

He didn't hear a single sound, but a moment later, Damian was in front of him, his lenses disengaged and a certain heat glinting in his Jade eyes as he stared him down. Dick wet his lips and motioned him closer. An instant later, Damian was pressed against him, lips slick against his own. It took everything in him not to groan as he let his hands slide down, taking a double handful of Damian's ass and squeezing hard, causing his hips to jerk forward against Dick's own.

When he finally pulled back for air, Dick pressed his nose into Damian's hair, his breath teasing against his ear, all intentional. "Even if you don't patrol with me tonight... I want you in my bed." Damian made a tiny noise of affirmation and Dick squeezed his ass harder, his lips ghosting down his neck down. "Tonight... I explore every inch... of you... like the gift... you are."

Damian's hand wrenched hard in his hair and his hips pushed forward and Dick let his eyes roll back as Damian nearly rutted against him for a moment. This was beautiful. Horribly irresponsible, but beautiful nonetheless. Besides, if they'd been in danger, Damian wouldn't have come to him at all and Dick knew that.

Reaching up, he tugged Damian's head back and kissed him hard again; all teeth and tongue and slick saliva. He could feel his arousal growing and he knew it was trouble in this suit, but he wasn't entirely sure he honestly cared. Damian nipped hard at his lower lip and Dick shuddered.

"Are you trying to get killed?" Batman's voice cut through everything and Dick and Damian were apart in an instant, both of them breathing hard and looking entirely as guilty as they were.

Dick wiped his mouth on his sleeve and swiped his tongue over the slight welling of blood Damian had left him with, doing his best to keep himself calm, even in the face of having Bruce's scary Batman demeanor facing him down.

There were a hundred things Dick would have thought Bruce might have thrown back in his face, but none of them came to pass and for that he was thankful. Instead, Bruce jerked his head toward where Damian and he had been and Dick watched as Damian trudged off in that direction, leaving him with a vaguely amused sensation. So Batman still held sway over Robin. In a lot of ways that was a damn good thing and, for once, Dick felt no need to assert his place in all of this. No jealousy, no rabid rage or the need to challenge Bruce's place. Because, he damn well knew it was both Father and Batman that had Damian at his every whim.

Pushing away from the metal unit, Dick paused beside Bruce, his eyes wandering the Gotham skyline as he left him with his quiet words. "For what it's worth... wasn't trying to get killed. And it wasn't planned, either. I'm on watch and-"

"And you got bored. You _always_ get bored." Bruce's hand landed heavy on his shoulder, squeezing. "I need him until about midnight, then he's free to go where he wants."

The allowance was more than Dick had thought he'd get after getting caught like that and he gave a sharp little nod. "I'll be on patrol by then, just let him know to hit me up." He let his hand come to Bruce's shoulder as well, his touch feather-light. "And I'm sorry you saw that..."

"Will not be the last time." Bruce didn't say it with malice, simply with a deep-seated knowledge that he was right and Dick didn't refute it in the least.

Letting his hand fall away, Dick took off, back toward where he'd been before, making every single leap without the help of his grapple, forcing the issue of his workout to keep the cramps at bay in a few minutes... and to get rid of the ache Damian had left him with.

Easing back into the shadows of the building he'd been on to start with, he found the woman's window again and watched her click around, obviously still within the same site. 

It was almost an hour before she opened something besides text, the images of the two mutated children appearing on the screen. A few more documents came up, these with images of chemical formulas. Dick knew that much, though not what they meant. He pulled his camera free of his pouch and took a few quick pictures of the pages, keeping it up until she had clearly finished looking over the document. 

Tucking it away, he stood and let himself free-fall off the building, only letting his grappling hook grab him about five stories down, moving him from fire escape to fire escape until he was on the ground and running for his bike. He had somewhere to be, someone to visit.

\-------

Nearly an hour later, Dick was settled in his garage, both Jason and Tim beside him as he brought up the images. He'd called in Jason because it concerned him as much as it did Dick and Tim because... well, because he was damn smart. He leaned back on the metal workbench behind him, crossing his arms over his chest as he simply waited on someone to speak.

"Is that-"

"Yeah," Jason cut Tim off before he had a chance to actually voice it. "And I'm guessing Boy Wonder over here did some night stalking."

"Of a Court member, yes." Dick reached back, holding onto the edge of the table and then hopping up on it, settling a second later. Pulling his leg up, he hooked his heel on the edge of the table and leaned forward onto it, letting it stretch his sore muscles. "She read a lot of text before she got to this part. Couldn't see that part."

Tim leaned over the terminal, bringing up an access window on the other screen, quickly starting to type out commands. He shifted one leg back, hooking it around the chair and hauling it over, seating himself as he continued to type. Dick and Jason exchanged a glance that was somewhere between amused and pained, knowing full-well if he launched himself into it this quick, he was already hot on the trail of something.

Jason came to settle on the table beside Dick, staying at the edge of it, his feet dangling, slowly kicking back and forth as he watched Tim work. 

Dick took the time to watch Jason, to truly try to see what was hidden away beneath the mask he wore even when his physical one was off. The start of stress lines beside his eyes told of sleepless nights and the set of his jaw indicated a pain that was deeper than a single instance... perhaps he ground his teeth at night or maybe all day. He could see the start of an angry purple bruise just under the collar of Jason's jacket and he became starkly aware that it was in the formation of fingerprints. So he'd been choked recently. His eyes lingered longer than they should have and it wasn't until Jason reached to pull his collar up more that Dick realized something more about that.

His gaze snapped up to Jason's face, finding the barest hint of a flush on those cheeks and he nearly didn't stop the grin. Okay, so that wasn't line-of-duty related, was it? Shifting slightly, he let his pinky finger drag over Jason's hand, earning him Jason's eyes on him as well. His eyes flicked down to his neck and then back up to his face, his lips quirking in a little smirk.

Jason took a deep breath, pushing his tongue against his teeth and then licking the inside of his upper lip before he huffed out a soft breath and shrugged. 

Dick tucked his cheek down against his knee, grinning toward Jason, mouthing out, "Kinky," earning an eye roll from Jay before he looked away. His hand shifted and Dick glanced down, finding he was being flipped the bird and he snorted, glancing back toward Tim, who was very obviously watching them in the screen's reflection as he typed like mad. A dozen windows littered the screen, some of them search results, some of them code gibberish that exceeded Dick's own knowledge of the matter, and a few of them images. 

Finally, Tim hit Enter with a flourish and pushed back from the desk. Three programs launched, the first one generating the chemical formulas and then displaying them in atomic format, the design slowly rotating to see all sides. The second window held a list of names, each accompanied by a small photo. And the third was a map with three mapped out locations world-wide. It wasn't hard to put together, but Tim did it anyway, pointing at each screen in turn. "What it looks like and thus what it is... the people who know how to make it... and the locations that currently have all the necessary components and tech to create it."

"What _is_ it?" Jason piped up, an irritated edge to his voice that he usually got when things were edging too close to going right over his head. 

"Non-technical? It's what mutated those children. From what I can understand, it would elevate the body's ability to take on elements of other species when the DNA is tampered with. Injectable is most probable, but aerosol is possible. If you're dealing with children..." he trailed off, raising one shoulder to indicate the rest of where his sentence would have gone.

The door opened, the computer quietly announcing, "Robin," to the room. Damian stepped in, the door hissing closed behind him. His steps approached the three of them and then came to an abrupt stop. Dick heard the creak of his gloves as his fist clenched and he hissed out, " _Grandfather_."


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song[s]: "End of All Days" by Thirty Seconds to Mars

The room remained utterly silent as each of them regarded Damian. The single word had the ability to strike something close to fear - but closer to anger - in all of their hearts. _Grandfather_ in Damian's context meant only one thing. It certainly wasn't in reference to a long-dead Wayne and all that left was Ra's. 

Dick could feel his gut clenching, his mind spinning in a dozen directions as he thought about what it could mean for them that both the Court and Ra's were involved in this. The union of two of their most inherent pains in the ass... it honestly felt more like a personal assault on both Dick and Damian.

Damian finally stepped closer, reaching out a hand to tap the one point on the map that was off all by itself, not even anywhere near an island, much less any other land mass. "It is an oil rig. He's had it as a backup for years. The end all be all of his end of days plans." Damian settled his stance, his arms crossing in a way that was reminiscent of Dick or Jason more than himself. If Dick had been less on edge, he might have found it amusing, but as it was, he found it nearly foreboding that Damian felt so out of himself that his actions weren't even his own in that moment.

"So he's implemented the end game then? And we're somehow elbow-deep in the middle of it?" Tim's voice held a certain incredulousness to it.

"No." Dick almost didn't believe how quiet his own voice was, almost didn't recognize the tone of it. "Not the end game... but the power grab. If I didn't know better, I'd suspect Talia. The inclusion of the Court isn't a Ra's move... it's something Talia would do, thinking she could off them in the end. And no end game from Ra's is going to involve mutating children. It's too indirect."

Damian gave a small nod, his gaze hanging on the spinning model on the screen, remaining silent as he regarded it.

"So... what? We have mutated homicidal children, the inclusion of the Court in the creation thereof... the potential for Ra's or a dead woman to be involved because of the location, and a world of hunches? I think we're overlooking something here, trying to link things that aren't linked." Jason slid off the table, meandering somewhere between Dick and Damian, glancing between everyone in the room and then going to lean over the console, his hands pressed flat on the surface. "And if it's aerosol... we're fucked, right? Dick and I?"

Damian's head snapped up in clear alarm, his nostrils flaring and a moment later, he had Jason slammed against the console, trying his damn best to wrestle his jacket off. 

"Hey! What the fuck, kid?!" Jay didn't fight back just yet, only trying to get Damian off of him rather than actually aiming to hurt him; his movements obvious.

Dick started to get up, but Tim put his hand up and pinned him with a grim look. "Don't. Jay... let him."

Jason relaxed enough to let Damian take off his jacket and then shove his sleeve up, examining both arms and then tugging the collar down, examining the bruise and then lower, inspecting closer. A few seconds and he pushed away, stalking toward Dick, who held up his hands and then shifted, reaching to unfasten his suit and shrug off the top part. He held his arm out and waited, Damian taking it and examining it just the same. The exact process was repeated and then - seemingly satisfied - Damian huffed out a breath. "When dealing with those mutated people, put on your re-breathers from now on. If it is aerosol I guarantee it will not be inert so quickly as to allow you to escape again."

Dick sighed, reaching to pull his suit back on, Jason doing the same with his jacket after getting a nod from Tim. "Look... they looked like they'd been in there a long time. Failed experiments, perhaps. But the new group of kids were coming in and-"

Damian's head jerked to stare at Dick, his gaze piercing. "Did they act drugged?" Dick shook his head and Damian actually looked relieved. "From here on out, we have to handle this like it could be the end of the world. It will not be the end game, but it could be a plan toward the end of us."

Sighing, Tim turned in the chair, his arms crossed high over his chest and a grim look on his face. "I hate to agree here, but I do. I think it's less than we are lead to think and more than we want it to be at the same time. And if we're talking Talia... then she's out to kill Damian."

"Who are we kidding? If it's her, she's out to kill us all and the main two targets will be Damian and Bruce." Dick pushed off the table, his hand going to rest on Damian's shoulder, squeezing. "We need a plan and we need Bruce involved in it. This isn't just as big as us anymore."

Silence prevailed for a moment before Jason murmured, "It's always been." Something about the way he said it, the agony in it told of something more. 

\----------

Only an hour later, they all stood in the cave, Bruce with them this time. He'd come in only to be confronted with the lot of them and Dick had never seen him look more like he thought the end was coming down on him than he did in the first instant he took off his cowl and set it aside.

They'd just dropped the bomb on him as to what all they'd found, Tim pulling it all up on the mainframe and Damian explaining what all he could connect. They didn't draw lines, didn't want to lead Bruce to anything, but let him find his own way through it. And by the looks of it, he was already formulating his own decisions. The grim set of his jaw told Dick a million things and none of them were anything good.

Bruce turned back to them from the screens, his gaze pinning on Jason. "Give us a moment. Alone."

Tim started to move, but Dick remained, watching Jason's face, the way it fell and the way he could see agony shoot through every single vein in his body in a single instant. And he _knew_ then. Knew that Jason's visit with Talia when he'd not known who he was had been something more than any of them were being told. 

He shifted, one hand resting on the metal counter of the computer, his stance indicating he wasn't going anywhere. Jason's eyes flicked to his own and after a second, he was given a subtle nod and he chose to look at Bruce instead. "I think I'll be staying, thanks."

Damian made no move either, following Dick's lead in a way that gave him a hard reminder that his lover was very much still _his_ Robin. There was the slightest shift of air and Tim was back at Dick's side, his arms crossed and a half angry look on his face. He and Damian said nothing, but it was achingly clear no one was going anywhere for this.

Jason grasped the chair and turned it, settling into the rich leather and crossing one leg over the other, his hand idly playing over the arm of the chair, his gaze on the floor now. "There was so much that happened while I... wasn't me. While she had me there. The reasons she put me in the pit and what she told me afterward. I think..." he swallowed and his gaze went to Damian, something in it that made Damian stiffen just the slightest. "I think I was her first failed attempt at killing Bruce, honestly. It wasn't about a seed for revenge for me, it was about her agenda and Bruce standing in her way... or rather _Batman_. But the things I did while I was there, I'm not proud of them. But trust me when I tell you, this isn't just about two or three of us... it's about at least four and there's no way in hell she'd leave out anyone else from that equation. It's bigger than all of us in this room, I promise you that." Jason looked up at Bruce and gave him a little nod.

"Talia is manipulative in a lot of ways, but her most useful tactic is definitely the use of her... wiles... to ensnare. She used them on me." Jason paused, giving another small nod and breathing out, "Just tell them, B..."

Bruce settled his cowl on the counter and sighed. "It's going to be a long night." Reaching to pinch the bridge of his nose, he let his hand fall away. "She seduced Jason as well. And the ways in which she did it were tantamount to all of the things we string people up for every single night."

"Stop." Damian stepped closer to Jason, the look in his eyes hard as he stared his father down. "Unless this is somehow therapeutic to Todd, we are not discussing the exacts of this. We will _not_ torture one of our own with details."

Surprise filtered over Jason's face and then an instant later it crumbled and Dick could see the way he had to grasp at everything to pull himself back together, to not fall apart in front of them the way he had on that rooftop with Dick what felt like an eternity ago. 

"I agree." Tim shifted to stand beside Damian, though facing Jay a bit more. "We do not require details, only... facts. Facts that get us somewhere, not a recount of horrors."

Bruce gave a nod and Damian shifted away from Jason, coming to stand next to Dick instead, a hard look on his face as he regarded the screen. "Draw your conclusions, Father."

"It's Talia... somehow, some way. This has her signature written all over it and," he reached to input a few things and another drawing popped up on the screen, simple dots and lines for the model on this one rather than 3D like Tim had done, but it was damn near the same. "A modification of the Fear serum... something Talia used on a single blade, a single time in the past." His gaze fell on Jason again and then shifted away. "This is personal. To all of us."


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: "In your arms / I am madness / I am weakness / I am desire" - Vytautaseneyevich  
> Beta Readers: sakuraame  
> Song[s]:["Nocturnal Rain Song" by BUCK-TICK](http://cadkitten.tumblr.com/post/140426267113)

Sometimes Dick still couldn't fully believe he finally had Damian in his life. There were moments - some of them post-patrol, some of them utterly random - that he realized just how blessed he truly was to even have him for a fraction of a second, much less to have him so completely as to call him his lover, his boyfriend, his _Robin_. And this moment was no exception. 

They'd chosen to have a single night of their own, Tim and Jason offering to cover the partial shift with Bruce as well as the shift on Blüdhaven to give them one night to themselves. And Dick had done everything he'd ever wanted to. They'd had dinner at a tiny diner down the street where everyone knew Dick by name and no one bothered him about _who_ he was, just that he was a friendly face in their midst. They'd welcomed Damian with the very same enthusiasm and tenderness and the food had been wonderful, Damian falling in complete love with some pasta concoction Dick had never even thought to try. 

The rest of the evening had been spent alternating between video games Dick knew Damian normally would have called a waste of time - though he beat him in a suspiciously quick fashion for someone who claimed not to have ever played - and short art films Damian had collected. It was achingly _domestic_ and Dick loved every single second of it. Not to mention, he'd never known Damian had a hidden love for foreign and artsy films, and knowing something so personal about him gave Dick the epitome of warm fuzzies. 

Two games and three films later, Damian was curled up against Dick's side, Dick's arm slung over his shoulders as they watched the last film Damian had brought with him. The soundtrack was nothing short of amazing and Dick could have sworn he actually knew one of the actors, though he couldn't pinpoint where he knew the man's somewhat delicate features from. There was this fantastical element to the film that left the whole thing feeling like a dream, the slightly fuzzy quality to it only adding to it, and Dick found himself lulled by it in a way he hadn't been by anything in a long time. 

And just like that, he understood why Damian loved these things. The concentration on another language, one they maybe didn't speak at all - or well - forced the mind to follow on another level entirely, one that brought their eyes all over the screen, their inherent skills into play in figuring out what was happening instead of being told by the dialogue. Pitch, tone, lighting... and yet it was all on an easy level that left the rest of the mind free to shut down, to ease away from reality for a while. And it was exactly what Dick had needed for a damn long time.

Damian shifted beside him, his hand sliding up over Dick's abdomen and then grasping onto his shirt as he moved, sliding onto his knees. His mouth pressed against Dick's ear, sending shivers down his spine in an instant. "Just let this happen... focus on the film until you cannot any longer. Trust me." And just like that, Damian slid off the couch and knelt on the floor. Dick shifted the leg he had pulled up on the couch when Damian gently pushed at it, widening the gap between his legs.

His eyes flicked down to watch as Dami's warm hands slid over his thighs, one on the bottom of the leg Dick had pulled up and one on the upper top of the one he still had rested on the floor. Their eyes met for an instant before Damian inclined his head back toward the television. 

Heart thumping in his chest, Dick let his eyes wander back to the screen, finding himself nearly instantly lulled by the images again. The scene flickered and changed, the streets of Paris coming into focus and Dick watched the way the rain fell, the way some people hurried along like ants scattering from the water and some continued along at a leisurely pace that implied their uncaringness of the weather. 

Damian's hands continued to rub lightly at Dick's thighs until, finally, one came to rest over the swell of the beginning stages of his arousal, simply resting there. His hips shifted the smallest amount, earning him a light squeeze for his efforts. He let out a tiny fraction of a sound, a pleased little murmur that asked for this to continue just as readily as it told how much he wanted what was happening. 

The delicate-featured actor on screen let his umbrella fall to the ground, the upturned basin of it now catching water as he simply stood there, in the middle of a square, one that the architecture implied Spain more than it did France, and Dick let his mind wander over the facts of why they would have chosen to change locations for such a thing, for a singular shot, when it was so achingly obvious. He was so focused on it that he completely missed the way Damian opened the fly of his pants and he gave a startled little moan when he was freed of the confines of the material, Damian's over-heated fingers easing him out.

He let his head fall back for a moment, a strange little quiver working its way up from inside of him as his mind shifted gears. Damian didn't stop him from looking away from the screen this time and some small part of Dick - the part that seemed distant and distracted - knew it was because he hadn't left that dream-like state that the film had pushed him into. While his body _felt_ the situation like he was about to be utterly burned alive by it, his mind registered it on an entirely different level. It was peripheral and yet forefront all at the same time and it was deeper than he'd ever been.

Even when the slick wetness of Damian's mouth slid over his length, Dick didn't dare lift his head. He wasn't inclined to break this strange spell he'd been put under; didn't want to leave this hazy universe of functionality and passion. His hips didn't push up like they normally would have and his breathing didn't elevate in the clear way he was used to when his arousal became this great. The lust he felt surged higher and higher, the feeling of Damian's tongue sliding over his achingly-hard cock nudging him toward the precipice. 

He felt hands grip his hips, felt the way they wandered up his torso beneath his shirt and the way they slid back down accompanied by blunt nails, but he didn't react to it in the ways he normally would have. His body did not arch and his breath did not hitch. Instead, he felt it on a level tantamount to spiritual; like he was living a moment in someone else's body, feeling what they felt and knowing what all of it meant in a way he'd never thought to take a step back and notice before.

He could feel every fiber of his being preparing for his release: the way his balls drew up tight, the way his abdominal muscles clenched up, and even the way his cock flexed against Damian's tongue. Dick didn't stop any of it, didn't bring himself away from the moment at all, and when it happened, it was with only the barest hitch of breath. But the feelings surrounding it were something else entirely. His mind surged with color, with sound, with a _presence_ he'd never felt before. He was _there_ , rooted in the moment, and he didn't want to be anywhere else at all. What was usually a strange floating instant for him was steeped in hard lines of reality. Everything felt more fully whole than it ever had before, and he could feel every single pulse of his cum as it left him, could feel every surge of blood through his veins, and every thought was crystalline. The sense of overwhelming clarity came down hard around him and even when he allowed himself to look down, to see Damian's mouth languidly working over him, he could only think of the very moment and of nothing else at all. 

Damian pulled back and licked the tip of his cock once more before he stood. Dick watched as his clothing fell the floor, moved his leg without having to even think about it, knowing where Damian was going and what was happening before it ever started to come to pass. The peripherals were pointless, meaningless - enough so that Dick didn't even bother to take notice of how Damian prepped himself, only that he had. His focus was on the man in front of him in a non-physical sense, in a way that he'd never noticed another person on the entire planet.

Even as he slid deep inside of Damian's body, knew he should have been feeling the most overwhelming pleasure, he only felt it in an outside sort of sense. The sensation of it rather than the lust of it. Instead, he found every glimmer of emotion within Dami's eyes, every flutter of his eyelids, and every single scar along his sides as he let his hands travel his skin. 

By the time the feeling began to fade, Dick was nearly drunk on it. He felt himself begin to move, his hips begin to surge upward to meet Damian's rocking movements. His thighs parted more, his feet planting more steadily on the floor and soon enough he was pounding up into him, taken on the more base level. The familiarity of the lust surged through him like a siege of his every emotion forcing him to focus.

Damian's hands were in his hair, holding on tight as he rode him rough, meeting every one of Dick's hard thrusts, and Dick let himself enjoy the stinging pain of it. His hands came down to cup Damian's ass, fingers digging into the tight muscle and holding on for all he was worth. Damian nearly howled over him and Dick let out a responding sound he was helpless to stop before he was shoved hard against Damian's neck. Slicking his tongue out, he began to explore, finding the juncture of neck and shoulder and biting down less harshly than he would have thought he'd want to, given the opportunity. But it was exactly what it needed to be and Damian responded with a soft cry that told Dick he was on the right track.

He let Damian keep the control until he could feel his own body starting to tremble with the desire to find release. His hand came up to clamp on the back of his neck, the other hand holding hard against his ass still. In one smooth movement, he had Damian pressed against the back of the couch, his own knees spread on the plush seat, the hand from Damian's neck holding onto the back of the couch as he let himself go.

Every snap of his hips brought a whine or whimper or cry from Damian's lips, every single push of his body against Damian's yielded the slick sounds of sex into the air of the apartment. He finally let go of his ass, holding the couch with both hands and going hard at him, unwilling to stop the surge of lust that ate him up from the inside out, unable to think past the blinding need to feel Damian tighten around him.

Damian clenched hard around him and Dick choked out some strangled version of his name, his hips losing all sense of rhythm, his strokes nearly taking him fully out of Damian's body before he plunged back in. And he listened to him damn near scream with pleasure beneath him, listened to the endless chants of words he both understood and did not. And then he was losing it himself, unable to stop it even if he'd wanted to - and damn did he ever _not_ want to. 

White hot pleasure spiked through him as he spilled deep within Damian's body, his hips still working full-speed as he did it. His mouth found that juncture of neck and shoulder and this time he was certain he bit down harder than intended. But the wrenching cry from beneath him, coupled with the wetness sliding over his abdomen told him it was the last thing Damian had needed to lose it with him. 

Still he didn't stop, didn't even calm his movements, until he was shaking with it, until it was far too much for him to bear anymore. The sensations were overwhelming and he couldn't help it as he grabbed the back of the couch and slammed hard into Damian a few more times. Shaking, he could feel the single sharp pulse of another near-orgasm shock its way through his body and he strained hard for it. His muscles shook and his cock strained and then relief washed over him, the steady throb of his cock bringing with it much-needed relief this time. 

Easing down against Damian, he pressed his forehead against his shoulder, panting for his breath. His muscles quivered and his entire body tingled in a way he had never really experienced before. Damian's arms slid around his back and held him loosely, his lips pressing to Dick's ear. "Trust me still?"

Dick managed a weak little huff of a laugh and he let himself give a single bob of his head. "Always."


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song[s]: "Red Soil" by Dir en grey / "Get Up!" by Korn Feat. Skrillex

_"This is personal. To all of us."_ The words echoed hard inside of Dick's mind even as he and Jason stood, back-to-back. The room was tiny, tinier than it was supposed to have been. The schematics hadn't shown the modification to the whole place and they certainly hadn't shown the lack of escape route. But now, here they were, having intended to lead their enemies to the rooftops, to a place where they probably held the bigger advantage and at least enough open space to divide and conquer. But instead... they were here; trapped in this pitiful room, Talon's surrounding them, and Dick's blood pumped hard and quick through his veins. 

He didn't know where Tim was, though at least he knew where Bruce and Damian were. He could hear the sounds of battle from nearly the other side of the abandoned hospital. His back straightened against Jason's and he concentrated on breathing as he watched the Talon's within his view. Not one of them was moving, which meant - more than likely - whoever had orchestrated this was coming to have a talk with them. Or to just outright kill them since they were probably the only ones who could die in this room without some serious shit.

Dick's wrists flicked and the electricity in his escrima sticks turned on, the faint hum of it filling the room. He felt Jason's muscles shift just the slightest, telling him he was ready on his mark. Twenty to two. The odds weren't great, hadn't been great for Bruce one night when he'd been faced with less than half of that number. But he'd be damned if they didn't try this, be damned if he wasn't going to do this with everything he was.

His muscles shifted, his foot slid back, bracing against Jason's heel. It was a trick they'd learned on the mats, one they'd never used in a fight before. But the stakes being so high... well, he'd be lying if he said he didn't at least want to go out looking damn cool about it. He felt Jason move, heard the light huff of breath that meant he was beyond amused, and then, they were pushing off. Dick used the brace to leap and then tumble, coming up from the ground, both escrima jabbing upward in between two of the talon's legs. It was fighting dirty, but he was sure they weren't exactly fighting nice. 

He heard a howl from Jason's side of the room as he spun around, still on the floor, kicking one of the Talon's legs out from under him, watching him go down hard and then using the back of the stick to crush his throat. The prior two came back up and it was like a switch was being flipped from the good boy he had usually always been to the one that he regarded in his private time as a murderer. His stick went through the heart of the one on the floor and he came back up to four rushing him. Both sticks hurled at the wall, rebounding toward their targets. In the meantime, he extracted a short blade from his belt and slit the throat of the next one that came at him.

Two hard hits grounded him again and he rolled, grabbing one of his escrima and stabbing back hard with it. The next one tried to step on him and he severed the Achilles tendon and then gouged the femoral artery. He didn't think that would kill a Talon, but it would hurt like goddamn hell no matter who you were. 

He could hear the sounds of fighting from Jason's side and every once in a while a gunshot, something that kept him understanding Jason was still alive, at least for now. One Talon got ahold of him, dragging him backward by his hair. Dick reached up, sliced through both hair and hand and rolled away from it, shaking blood from his hair as he stabbed the blade right into the Talon's eyeball, out a little and then up, the Talon dropping hard as he hit the right part of the brain. 

Pain lanced through his left side and he could feel the blood starting to pour from the wound, feel the way his adrenaline surged to keep him going like Bruce had always taught them to. He spun, the blade pulling further and his knife went in under the Talon's jaw, up and back, right into his spinal cord. Another dead weight hitting the floor. 

Four down of his ten, he rushed toward a group of three of them, extracting the blade in his side on the go, gripping it hard in his hand. A tumble and he came up behind two of them, having gone under a third's legs. Lashing out on both sides, he caught one in the jugular and the other mid-spinal cord. Both dropped and he heard a familiar grunting pain from the other side of the room. He left the knife the in the Talon's spinal cord, kicking back one of his two opponents and saw two of his own Talon's had joined up on Jason. A gunshot sounded and one dropped and then the familiar click and puff of a jammed bullet sent fury through Dick's veins.

His hand went to his belt, pulled free the only live grenade he ever carried and thumbed out the ring, knowing well even if Jason survived this, Dick was causing even more trauma. The approach on his left ended with a knife to the forehead and the last Talon was huddled against the wall to his right, not even trying to come after him anymore. He judged the amount of Talon's on Jason, the amount of him left outside the pile and then let go of the handle, cooking it before he launched it into the air and rolled toward one of the dead Talon's, pulling it over him just as the blast went off.

His ears rang for a minute afterward, his head spinning from it, and he couldn't have moved if he'd wanted to. Maybe thirty seconds went by and hands pulled him from under the now mostly swiss-cheesed Talon's body, pushing him against the wall. His head was a mess but his vision was trying to clear up and he could have sworn what he saw was the Talon who'd been cowering back digging Jason out of the pile of obviously dead Talon's. His hand lifted to his head and he found blood there when he took his fingers away, and then

 _blankness_.

\-----------

Dick jerked awake, a soft gasp on his lips. Pain shifted through his side a moment later. The ringing in his ears was still vaguely there, making him quickly realize it hadn't been that long since he'd lost consciousness. Shaking his head a little, he blinked his eyes a few times and looked up as someone came to stand in front of him.

The Talon he could have sworn moved Jason against the wall was standing in front of him, dripping with blood, a steady pool of it forming at his feet. He wavered slightly and then crashed to his knees in front of Dick. One hand lifted, bloody and mangled, obvious that a knife had gone through it at least twice. The cowl was lifted from his head, the fabric sagging in his hand as he revealed himself to Dick. 

For one heart-stopping instant, Dick could have sworn he was looking at a younger version of Jason. He didn't even think to flinch away when the Talon's free hand lifted to his cheek, slicking over it, and something held Dick back from flinching away from it. "Never tell... I am the only one." The Talon's cowl was placed back on and before Dick could force his limbs to work the Talon stood and removed his sai from his back-sheath. Turning it toward himself, he tilted his head back and breathed out, "For truth," and then plunged the blade up through his heart and spine, pitching backwards nearly instantly, dead before he ever hit the floor.

A second later the door slammed open and Damian darted in. He was drenched in Talon blood and his breath came heavy to him, making it obvious he'd been fighting hard and then, probably, running just as hard. His eyes darted between Dick and Jason and then across the mess, assessing. Dick could nearly see the way his mind flitted between the options, over what he should do versus what he cleared wanted to. His gaze lingered on Dick for a moment before he turned and dropped on his knees, straddling Jason's legs as he shoved one hand into his hair and the other against his pulse. 

Dick somehow got himself moving, barely getting off the floor before Bruce appeared in the doorway. He was holding a bleeding wound in his side with one hand and the scowl on his face told Dick it wasn't life-threatening just yet, but overly painful and had probably been directed somewhere else entirely. His eyes flicked to Damian as he stood and he glanced back in just enough time to measure the height of the wound versus where Damian usually kept himself when he was with Bruce. His heart flip-flopped in his chest as he realized Bruce had taken a blow just to keep it from Damian.

Limping his way across the room, Dick winced and slid to his knees, waving Damian off. "I had to set off a grenade... he's not going to like it much when he comes around." He took a steadying breath, waited until Damian was a fair bit back, and then withdrew a small stim injector from his belt. Holding it against Jason's wrist, he injected and then waited, tucking it back into his pouch, counting down from five.

On one, Jason's eyes flew open and he nearly came up from the floor - would have if it hadn't been for Dick snagging him around the waist and barking out, "Jason!" Jason froze and Dick pushed him back down, one hand going to his chest as he put his weight into it. "It's done in here. We need to finish this shit, you hear me?" 

Jason gave a jerky nod and Dick slid his hand up to his chin, holding it and staring right into his eyes, all of them having left their lenses disengaged for this one. "Stay with me... what happened was me, okay? I did it."

Another nod and Dick eased back, pushing himself up to his feet. Smaller hands than his own came to tuck gauze against his wound on his side and he felt the numbing of anesthetic. Two nerve points and the hitch in his leg was gone as well. Damian held out a hand to Jason and hauled him to his feet before turning. "We lost track of Drake. Finding him is top priority." 

Those words would never have come out of his mouth at one time and it made Dick damn proud that they did now. They turned and left the room, Dick in the rear. He gave one last glance to the body of the Talon who'd shown him his face and he barely stopped the concerned frown. Another quick glance showed his was at least thinner than the others, his armor hanging lazily from him in comparison, and Dick darted back into the room, pulling the sai free of the Talon's chest, sheathing it and then retrieving his escrima as well.

He wiped them on his legs as he darted after the family. His wrists flicked and one of them lit up, the other staying out. Two more seconds and he was around the corner, following his instincts rather than his family; left instead of right. A half dozen corridors and he slammed open a door to the sound of a shrill scream. He watched the sai of one of the three standing Talons thrust right through Tim's midsection, watched in something resembling slow motion as Tim crumpled toward it and choked out, "Run."

A small child darted out from behind him, narrowly avoiding a Talon and brushing past Dick to flatten himself against the wall just outside the door. Dick spared him a glance and a hissed, "Wait here," before he charged into the room with a bellow sure to draw someone, though he had no way of knowing if it'd be friend or foe. He flipped the engaged escrima to Tim, watching him shove it right up against the Talon's heart, hearing the searing of flesh and the strangled scream. Grasping a fallen sai, he ran it through the nearest Talon's back, all three points sinking in before he turned and began smacking the hell out of the second who had been about to try to impale him as well. Half a minute and he was down, Dick's foot coming down hard on his face, breaking his nose and shoving it up into his brain. They'd made the agreement before coming here that Talon's were _un_ dead and thereby, any means necessary was a good policy when dealing with them, so he didn't feel overly bad about it. Though, now, there was a tinge of fear in his mind given what he'd seen, how he'd watched the other Talon die... and more _who_ he looked like.

He turned to find Tim leaning heavy against a desk, blood spilling over his hand as he held the stomach wound, the Talon dead at his feet. Their eyes met and Tim opened his mouth to speak. Blood bubbled up and spilled over his lips instead and Dick watched him start to gasp in the few seconds before he was there, catching him on the way down the floor.

They'd called com silence but he didn't fucking care right then, not in the least. There were things that overrode any plan and as even Batman had said, battle plans rarely survived first contact. Gathering Tim to him, he pressed his hand over the exit wound, cradling him close as he jammed his com and hissed out, "Where we split up, turn the other way, two corridors down, one left, next right, last door. Red Robin's down." He reached for a ragged part of Tim's pants, ripping it hard and pulling off a piece of it. He was used to wounds, was used to half of this shit, but when blood started coming up, he was honestly at more of a loss. Alfred had always fixed that and Bruce had always been there for them when it happened. 

The com line crackled and Jason's voice gasped over the line, "B's down, Red Robin's yours, pretty wing... God help us all." The com went dead and a moment later another explosion rocked the place. Panic gripped Dick and he looked down at Tim's face, seeing the glassy way he was looking up at him, feeling the life leaving him in his very arms, and he did the only thing he could think of. 

Reaching up, he pulled Tim's com from his ear and tucked it into his own, hitting it twice, he used something he honestly thought he never would. He let the line open up across everything and breathed out, "Midnighter... it's Grayson. _Help me_."

The line crackled with a surge Dick was nearly sure was supposed to be his reply and then the room filled with a bright light. Dick hit the com to turn it back off and pushed his hand through Tim's hair, watching his eyes slowly losing their light and knowing he couldn't do a damn thing. "I forgive you, Timothy Drake... for everything. And you _will_ make it through this." Hitching his breath, he let go of him and stood back, looking up into Midnighter's familiar face. "Save him."

"Looks to me like he's not the only one who needs it." The deep rumble of his voice was, for once, soothing to Dick's nerves and he gave a small nod. "Batman as well if you would. Safe place... I don't know, take them to Alfred if you can't fix it. But Tim's... he's dying," he barely got the last part out, pain wrenching his gut as he admitted it.

There was a shift in the room, something even Dick couldn't see - and his friendship with Wally had left him able to sense a damn lot of things - and he was left alone, the portal gone and a gun in his hand, holster on his leg, and extra clip secured to his wrist. Tim was gone, leaving only his blood behind on the floor. Dick turned and hit his com again. "Lead me to you."

The line fizzled and then Damian's voice came out over the line. " _Mother_ , I cannot say it is nice to see you again."

Dick's heart pounded and he bolted back down the hallways he'd come down, heading toward the ones he knew the others had been using. He could hear the sounds of fighting now across the line and he turned a corner, one of Midnighter's doors appearing in front of him and before he could stop he was in it. One quick glance supplied Jason, Bruce, and Tim all on lab tables, a myriad of equipment working on them. "I'm opening a door behind her. If you will do what needs to be done, I will let you walk through it. If not, I will see to it personally."

Dick gritted his teeth, his stance ready and hard. "Let me at her." Midnighter's hand lightly touched his back and then his side and Dick felt his wound slowly closing. Their eyes met for an instant and then Midnighter muttered, "Door," and Dick was pushed through. He landed, rolled into a kneeling position right behind Talia. Raising the gun, he took aim and before even two seconds had passed, he fired, watching the bullet tear through the back of her head. Nearly the same instant - perhaps a second before it - Damian's sword came through Talia's body, right up through her heart. 

There was a second of hesitation and then Dick was up, taking down the last three Talons coming toward them, each with a well-placed bullet to the head. Whirling around, he found Damian collapsed on the floor in front of Talia, staring down at his blood-covered hands, his gloves slicked nearly black with the quantity of it. He lifted his head and their eyes met. "I killed her," the words were simultaneous, drawn forth from both of them precisely three seconds before everything exploded.

White flashed before Dick's eyes and for an instant he was falling and then there was a hand on his suit, yanking hard and his hand was holding hard onto someone's wrist. The floor hit him like a brick to the face and he groaned, rolling over and seeing the stark white of the room he'd been in only a minute or so before. His head turned and he found it was Damian's wrist he'd grasped.

He looked so young laid out on the floor like this and he was clearly significantly dazed. Dick moved, shifting to kneel next to him, ignoring the scream of pain all around his body and reaching for Damian a second before he was lifted, settled on a table a second later. He barely blinked and Damian was on the one next to him.

"Lay the hell down, Grayson. I don't do this for everyone, you know."

There was a certain comfort in Midnighter's voice and Dick eased himself back on the table, not fighting it at all as the machine began to cut away his clothing. Midnighter stopped at the edge of his table, one hand on Dick's wrist. His voice was low, pitched only for Dick when he spoke. "You saved him from murdering his own mother. Take that to heart before you start applying blame to your soul." Dick opened his mouth to protest and Midnighter's gaze pinned him hard. "I've been watching and the you that you ripped apart is not the one who finished this job. Understood?"

Dick closed his eyes and gave a small nod. He could feel his costume being shifted away from his torso and left hip and his arms, but the rest remained and he couldn't help but feel the slightest amusement at that. Cracking an eyelid open, he watched as Midnighter dropped the cloth into a trash bin by his bed, the machines starting to move over him, working quicker than he could keep track of. "What? Couldn't handle the whole thing?"

"Cocky as ever." Midnighter's lips pressed against Dick's ear and he could nearly feel the curve of his smile there. "Do not mistake my courtesy as disinterest. But I am no thief when it comes to this and trust me if that costume were to come away completely... I would be." And just like that he was gone, two beds away at Tim's side. Dick couldn't see what he was doing, but he could see that the screens over each of their beds told a story of their lives still being intact and - for that - he was grateful.


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lack of chapters in a while. I've been going through my own personal hell and there was an entire week of me being utterly useless towards writing. I think I may be feeling it a bit today though, so hopefully!  
> This was written on the tale end of the hell, so forgive me if it's somehow lacking in comparison to the other chapters.
> 
> Song[s]: "流転の塔 (Acoustic Ver.)" by Dir en grey

Somewhere in the lulling process of being patched up by Midnighter's machines, Dick found himself fading off to sleep. For once in his life, he let it happen... and even more oddly, he found not a single dream waiting for him on the other side of his eyelids. 

When he came back around, he felt more relaxed - more refreshed - than he had in years. The machines were still above him and the table felt far more padded than it had when he'd fallen asleep. Shifting onto his side, he peered around the room, which was still fairly bright, but toned down from what it had been, as if the lights had been dimmed for the sake of their sleeping. 

He could hear Jason's soft snore from the bed to his left and he could see the steady throb of Tim's pulse on the screens over his bed, telling him he was still very much alive. Relief poured through him and he pushed a hand through his messy hair, turning to the side and finding Damian's bed empty and no sign whatsoever of Bruce. Frowning a little, he slid off the table and started toward the only door in the room.

It slid open as he approached it, soundless and supplying no change in the light of the room. Stepping out into the hallway, it closed behind him and Dick made his way only a few steps before a little floating orb dropped down from the ceiling, widening and providing him the image of Midnighter's face. "Awake finally, sleeping beauty? Hall to your left has showers and some clothes. Then join us to your right for food." The screen fuzzed out and the orb floated off down the hallway away from him.

A moment of hesitation filled Dick, but he finally decided Midnighter was mostly harmless or he wouldn't have trusted him to save their asses like he had. Heading down the hallway, he found the bathroom; a giant in-floor onsen-style tub and a little wash-station to the side of it. Leave it to Midnighter to have such a high-class bathroom while even Bruce had such a typical one it was nearly maddening. Heaving a sigh, Dick pushed off his tattered remains of a suit and settled on the small stool, reaching for the soap and turning on the little faucet to fill the bucket in front of him. 

A quick three minutes held him completely washed and even his hair sprayed down and shampooed. He almost forewent the bath, but he could feel the heat rising from it and - what the hell - two of them were still down for the count, so he could take a minute. Especially if it could very well be his last minute like this with the way things were going. Easing down into the water, Dick let himself lean back, allowed his head rest against the smooth stone side and the hot water start to soothe him.

The whisper of feet on the stone let him know he wasn't alone. He cracked open his eyes, peering up at Damian as he settled cross-legged on the floor across from him. Tilting his head back to where it had been, Dick took in a deep breath and then breathed out a quiet, "I would tell you I was sorry for what I did... but I'm not. I _am_ sorry for whatever pain it may cause you, no matter if it does now or not. But as for actually doing it... I'm not."

"Your apologies are unnecessary." At Dick's hitched eyebrow, Damian continued, albeit quietly. "I was about to do it myself. It was what had to happen." 

Silence spread out between them until Damian stood, the light scrape of his shoes telling Dick he was moving. "Father is somewhere between distressed over it and oddly okay with it having happened. He... does not know you killed her. Keep it that way."

Dick lifted his head, only to find he was utterly alone in the room once again. He made a tiny face and then dredged himself up from the tub, finding a towel that hadn't been there before, drying himself with it as he meandered toward the small alcove he'd yet to explore. Within it, he found three stacks of clothing, each with a single lettered piece of paper pinned to the top: T, J, and D. He rolled his eyes. Way to make it obvious Midnighter knew who they were.

Picking up his own set, he unpinned the note, tossed it in the trash, and moved to begin pulling on each piece. Comfortable cotton-like pants that fit tight enough to not restrict his movements, underwear he could have sworn were the exact brand he'd have purchased a few years before, and a top that stuck to him like glue but was somehow comfortable once he had it on, the fabric a light blueish-grey with a black near-V along the chest and shoulders - something that made him think of Nightwing without actually being so. The shoes were only flip-flops, but the correct size, nonetheless.

Padding back out and down the hall to the right, he came in and found Bruce, Damian, and Midnighter all at the table, all sans masks. It was an oddity for Bruce especially, but Dick figured there had probably been something in the situation that called for it. Settling down, he didn't hesitate to serve himself from the food on the table, taking a few bites before he offered up any words. "Thanks for being there when I called..." he flicked his gaze back up at Midnighter, who offered a small fraction of a smile to him.

"For _the_ Dick Grayson to request outside help, something was going too far left for you to manage it alone... and for that, I'll be there if I can be."

Dick pulled up his leg and shifted his arm around it, eating a bit more. Putting down his fork, he moved his gaze to Bruce and then to Damian. "Tim was..." he shook his head, letting the assumption float in the air. "We owe M here, big time."

"You don't owe me shit." Midnighter reached to plop a roll on Dick's plate, settling back and picking one up for himself. He took a huge bite, chewed, and then licked his lips. "All a part of this job we do, right?"

"There is the matter of how he appears to know everything about us to discuss-" Bruce began.

"He knows many things. This is the least of it and - at this point - irrelevant." It was Damian who cut Bruce off and stood up for Midnighter. Dick didn't let his surprise show, but he damn well felt it. 

Jason trudged into the room in his fresh set of clothing, plunking down right next to M and filling his plate without hesitation. He even gave him a less than subtle fist bump along with a quiet, "Thanks, man."

Dick cocked his head, arching an eyebrow at Midnighter, who only gave him a small smile and then looked back toward Bruce. "I have my sources and trust me - more people than you think know who you are. Or at least heavily suspect. I've... helped shut down a lot of those people in the past few months." 

Bruce's silence prevailed over the room for the next while, no one daring to interrupt it for the time being. But the implication that they were all on the same side was achingly clear.


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Serious shout out to timmyjaybird here. Borrowing half an idea and modifying it. I don't honestly know if this is something that exists in the verse or if it was yours alone; I'm still too fresh to know. If it was yours, then all credit due to you for the idea I'm expanding upon. You're an awesome writer and an inspiration
> 
> Song[s]: Album Asylum by Disturbed

Dick knew he'd never admit it later, but there was something about the whole of the situation they found themselves in less than eighteen hours later to be wholly disconcerting. There was an eerie feeling of déjà vu involved in the trip he was making down one of Gotham's many alleyways. The vaguely unsettling feeling of the familiar in a situation when you couldn't really place why it was coming down that way.

Damian was maybe half a step behind him and somewhere to their west were Bruce and Jason, supposedly tracking after a Talon that Jason had got ripping off after.

Turning the corner, Dick eased himself against the cold stone of the wall, waiting as he measured up what was happening further down the alleyway. A few people slipped into the building, one of them flicking a cigarette butt onto the ground. The door started to swing shut and before Dick could react, Damian was flying past him, deathly silent and with a speed Dick almost could have sworn was verging on superhuman. Honestly, he'd always wondered if all of his powers had been drained after he'd gotten them when he came back from the other side and at times like these, he was nearly sure there were still remnants. 

He took off after him, slipping inside the door and into the darkened passageway. The door shut and he could sense Damian drawing his blades. He unsheathed his own weapons and they crept down the hallway. Two more turns and Dick froze, realizing in an instant why everything was feeling like complete déjà vu for him. It was so eerily close to the nightmare he'd had that he almost thought he was in it again. The coat room to the left seeming far too much like the room with the mask and the huge room up ahead sure to contain every member of the Court.

Dick crept along and flattened himself against the wall, peering into the coat room and then edging further down to see into the main room. Dozens of statues and glass display cases stood in the room, all of them so neatly labeled that Dick knew within a second that it was a museum. At the far end of the room, he watched as one of the people who had been in the alleyway pressed their hand to the wall and a hatch slid open, allowing them in.

Damian was already halfway around the room, sticking to the shadows before Dick could make a decision and for the first time in a long time he felt utterly out of his element. It wasn't a way to be going into whatever this was, but it also wasn't like he had much of a choice. Waiting on the people to disappear, he watched Damian tumble past and put something into the closing wall panel, stopping it from shutting just a sliver. 

Hitting his com, Dick quietly relayed where they were up to Tim, who was still with Midnighter with instructions that if he didn't check in within seven minutes to tell Bruce and Jason where they'd gone.

Slipping through the room, Dick came to crouch next to the door, examining it and then finding the trigger point. He pushed it and the door slid open, both he and Damian stepping inside, Damian replacing the small smoke bomb he'd left to hold open the door with, just in case.

Five steps led them to a small chamber, the stench of what Dick could only call death readily on the air. He could hear Damian shift away from him and then back to his side, the faint whisper of, "Two dead Talons," meeting his ear before he was gone, darting up ahead, down the hallway toward the next chamber.

Dick took off after him, his heart racing as he barreled after Damian, hearing the sound of bodies starting to drop to the floor. A light flared to life, the crack of a glowstick and then strange green light. He knew whoever was in there was already ready for him if they'd established Robin was already there. He came in with a dive and a spring on the floor, coming up with a sharp smack to one of their foes. A quick turn assessed nearly twenty Talons, all of them in varying degrees of what Dick could only call undeath. 

Easing himself around, he easily took down another two as they came at him. He could hear the count of Damian's bodies pilling up, could hear the sharp intake of breath that meant he'd been struck but not so badly as to let it truly bother him. Four came at him and Dick spent the next few minutes of his time concentrating on dodging blows while attempting delivery of at least a few of his own. Finally one dropped and he took out the second with an active escrima to the throat. One went over the top of him as he ducked and he could hear the gurgle as it was impaled on Damian's blade. The next he spun on and started to back it up toward the wall, though it held up its hands and reached for its cowl, pulling it off and letting it fall to the floor.

"You," Dick hissed out, following after it, heedless of the battle he was leaving behind now that he could see that this one looked very much like the one he'd seen before; the one that had looked strangely like a younger version of Jason. 

"I am not the same. He was One." The Talon turned as another advanced and a single lash took it down hard, left it gurgling on the floor. "Her plans have failed and you will win with those of us that remain." 

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dick felt frozen to his spot, utterly unable to get himself to stop staring at the Talon in front of him or to even move a single inch.

"It is up to one of you to end this before _he_ finds out what she has done." The Talon pulled his hood back on and turned, darting down the passage, toward wherever the people had gone that they'd followed in. 

Dick finally moved, rushing in to take down one more of Talons heading for Damian, the other two dropping dead a few seconds later. They regarded one another for a moment and Damian hissed out, "A little help would be great." He gave him a cock of his head that told Dick he wasn't angry, just giving him shit for taking out fewer of them before they were off, this time in tandem.

"There is at least one on our side," Dick managed to breathe out before they hit the next room, the door banging open and Dick's stomach dropped hard. Members of the Court stood in a semi-circle, in front of them Jason had been shoved to his knees, his hood removed, and he'd very obviously been beaten within an inch of his life. Talons lined the wall behind the Court, a single one standing behind Jason, his two blades crossed over Jason's throat, ready to shift and take him out at any second.

"Move and he dies." The voice came from the left side of the room. Two more people emerged from the shadows. "We already have your Batman. There will be no one coming to help you." Chains rattled and a second later a loud thump and Batman fell from the ceiling, thumping to the floor, tied up in a way that made Dick feel vaguely ill.

He could feel Damian trembling at his side, feel the energy that rolled off of him in waves, and Dick scanned the room, trying to figure out if he could find his ally among the Talons. 

"Two, Three and Five, step forward." Three Talons stepped away from the wall behind them, prodding Dick and Damian forward. Something was slipped into Dick's pocket and he knew the one at his back was his ally then. He kept his escrima lowered and when they were taken from him, he felt the faint brush of something else in his hand, a blade pushed up his sleeve on each side.

He swallowed hard and did his best to keep his thoughts from trampling over one another. Three more steps and he could see the way Jason was wavering, sense that he'd been drugged with how he was acting. Another step and Dick took a chance on the situation. If the one behind him held a numbered name and the one he'd encountered before had been One, then perhaps all three were allies. One more step and he let the blades down, one he launched right into the head of the Talon holding Jason, not even waiting to see him go down before he was launching himself at the people who they'd followed in. One knocked out, one with what probably amounted to two broken legs. Overuse of force, given the situation, was probably the least of their worries.

He could hear the clamor of people fighting to his right and he hoped that meant Damian was okay enough to be putting up a fight at least. He began dropping Court members as two of the Talons dashed past him and began to engage with the other Talons. He managed to hit his com and began to relay what he could as he took down member after member of the Court.

Four black shadows dropped from the ceiling and Dick cursed, realizing that some part of the League was here as well. But much to his surprise, not one of them engaged him or - when he cast a glance - Damian. Instead, they went after the Talons that were helping them and Dick let out a soft snarl, vaulting over one of the fallen Court members and heading toward the newly engaged mayhem. He watched one of the League assassins fall and the Talon who'd taken him down shake his head toward Dick before darting off after two more Talons, blades at the ready.

Dick focused on the Court for the time being, cutting off a few of them from escaping, taking most all of them down with the same excessive force and extreme prejudice. Two more assassins dropped and one of the three Talons who'd been helping them went down hard, limp enough Dick knew it was over for him. 

The last of the Talons who had been attacking them went down under Damian's hand and Dick smashed into the last Court member as they tried to flee, smashing his elbow into their face, his hand on their throat. 

Both remaining members of the League fell and in tandem, both of their protector Talons pulled their sais from the fallen assassins and turned the blades on themselves. "We are the last. For truth!" And their blades sank into them, both pitching forward a second later.

Dick didn't even manage to get a single word out and he didn't realize until a few seconds later that he'd actually been choking the Court member beneath him the entire time. Pulling his hand away from their limp body, he pushed himself off and went to kneel next to Jason, Damian already untying Bruce. 

A door opened above them and both Tim and Midnighter dropped down, Tim limping when he took a few steps. "Someone ordered cleanup?"

"And takeout?" Midnighter offered, already making his way around the room to try to get a handle on the members of the Court who were stirring. 

Dick sank back against the wall, his hand sliding back to where the Talon had left him something. He pulled it free, opening the folded piece of paper. 

_I am Two. He was One. And we are, in total, Five. We are both Her creation and His portion. Everything you need to know has been delivered._

Quietly, Dick folded the paper and tucked it back away, his eyes meeting Midnighters, their silent exchange saying he needed to talk to someone on the outside of this and Midnighter's agreeing without hesitation. Somewhere, some way, they would find their way out the other side of this.


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song[s]: "Lament(Instrumental)" by Alias / Dark Knight Trilogy Music by Hans Zimmer

Dick sat beside Midnighter at his table, a myriad of papers spread out before them. Two had been right, he'd definitely delivered all the necessary paperwork to Dick - or rather someone had. And it still remained that there were five and two were unaccounted for, not that that really bothered Dick with the idea that they weren't exactly fighting against them.

Easing himself forward, he pushed another sheet out of the way, revealing what amounted to the main page of the whole thing: Talia's big plan to engineer creations that would come back and haunt each of them until they were utterly mad or dead. Each of the five had undergone intense surgeries to alter them to look like Jason, some of the lead Doctors on the planet in plastic surgery having disappeared in the duration of the project, presumably taken in by Talia and forced to do whatever this fucked up thing she had been doing was. But somewhere along the way, One had grown a conscience and had realized something beyond serving Talia, the League, and the Court. 

In the process he'd taught he others to follow his lead and they'd found their way - in secret - to side with one another and with Jason's side, but to never let him know what had transpired. That part of the notes had been hand written and hurried, in no way analytical and obviously added in by the Talon himself. 

Dick eased himself back from the mess of papers with a quiet sigh. "I don't know what to do. It seems wrong not to tell him what she was planning. But now that she's dead and they're... dead," Dick shrugged, trailing off as he cast his glance toward Midnighter. 

"Perhaps some things are best left untold." Midnighter pushed himself up from the table and came to the other side, slowly starting to gather up the papers into a neat stack. "You said he has trauma associated with that time in his life, yes?" At Dick's nod, he paused, pinning him with his gaze. "Then you have to be careful with him. If you choose to tell him, you have to be there for him without reserve. If you choose to keep it from him, it must be in full and forever. We burn this now and we hunt the other two."

The shadows shifted and Damian stepped out, taking the two steps to the table and tossing a printed photo onto the table, displaying the two Talons who had been dead in the front room sans masks. "For truth," he breathed out, placing his hands flat on the table and leaning forward onto them as he studied the pair of them. "They're all dead, we can do whatever we choose."

Dick could feel something inside of him ease up and he pulled his booted foot up onto the chair, resting his chin on his knee. "Burn it." He watched Midnighter flick his gaze to Damian, receiving a somber nod, and the stack along with the photo were taken to the stovetop and stuffed in a metal bucket, the fume hood opened, and a second later, the whole thing went up in flame as Midnighter dropped a whole lit pack of matches into it. 

"You seem a bit too prepared for that."

The table creaked slightly as Midnighter leaned his hip against it. "No such thing as underprepared to destroy evidence, D-bird." Dick narrowed his eyes at Midnighter at that one, watching him until Midnighter cracked a grin and looked away. "Too far? We don't like being called D-bird I take it?"

Damian's knuckles cracked and both of them shifted their attention to him. "No, he just knows how I am going to feel about nicknames coming from a non-family member."

Midnighter held up a hand and chuckled. "Hey, I'm not stomping in your grounds, kid. If I were, you'd know about it and it wouldn't be all cutesy like a nickname." He let his hand drop back down. "We're cool. Promise."

Damian eased up and Dick found himself letting his thoughts drift on an easier sort of wave than he had in a long, long time. Maybe, sometimes, it was nice to play somewhere in the gray, to find friends who weren't quite on the same edge of the law, and to know you had backup in higher places. And sometimes it was just good to simply... _be_.

\----------

The breeze was easy in Blüdhaven, for once the weather mild enough to almost seem peaceful. Night was creeping in, the very edges of daylight still fading down over the horizon, lending the whole atmosphere something that Dick would have rationally called romantic. 

Damian stood against the railing of his porch, his stance telling that his mind was far away from here, a million miles ahead of where they stood in this moment, and everything in Dick begged him to reach out and pull him back down into the here and now. 

Stepping up behind Damian, he slid his arms around him, easing himself up against his back, ducking his head down to rest his chin on Damian's shoulder. Closing his eyes, he let himself simply exist in the moment, to just feel the way Damian felt in his arms, to lay claim to the crazy little pitter-pat of his heart that still never stopped in moments like these. 

He pushed his nose against Damian's hair, breathing in that scent that was uniquely Damian, letting a smile curve his lips as he pressed his lips to his ear. "Come back to me, my precious Robin."

The shift in Damian's body was immediate, the way he pushed back into Dick's arms, the way his hand curled protectively over Dick's wrist as he shifted his head to the side, letting Dick press his lips against his neck.

Dick nuzzled there for a few moments before he turned his head to watch the last tendrils of light be consumed by the darkness. Normally he would have felt a certain piece of dread, a certain instance of knowing he had another night to protect this city and another night in which it could very well be his last. But today... it tasted of hope and of the bittersweet victory of the days before. Tonight it felt like companionship and _future_. And really, wasn't that all he could have ever asked for?

A small smile curved his lips as he ducked his head, tucking his nose against the juncture of Damian's neck and shoulder, and he let himself whisper the words they so rarely allowed themselves to speak aloud. "I need you to know... no matter how hard things get, no matter what we face down or where it's coming from... I love you. From the deepest depths of my mind and my heart, I adore every minute I spend with you and I cherish you like nothing else in my entire life."

He could feel the way Damian's grip tightened on his arm, the way he pressed back into him even more and he let himself leave a gentle kiss against his skin. 

"Grayson?" The light tremor in Damian's voice told him everything he needed to know, but he let out a soft, "Hmm?" anyway, encouraging, wanting to hear anything else Damian could get out past everything that told him to keep it all inside. A few seconds passed them by and then, quietly, "You are everything to me."

In that moment Dick felt like he could have fought a thousand battles, won a million sieges, and taken down an empire if only he had Damian by his side. And the real kick of it was... _he did_.

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it guys! If I don't end it somewhere, it'll go on forever. So it may as well be after the big plot's all piled up, right? Anywho, here's the dealio. I'm gonna keep writing in Bat-land and I sort of want to know what you guys want to see. 1. What did you not get out of this that you wanted to see? 2. What do you want that has nothing to do with this? No guarantees it'll happen, but I'll take it all into consideration! ♥ you all. Thanks for reading and thanks for sticking by me to officially the most comments I've ever received on a story!


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